


Fix It

by Asterrious



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A little bit darker than I thought it would be, Featuring some Mercy headcanons of mine, M/M, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Written for some prompts I got, bodyswap au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asterrious/pseuds/Asterrious
Summary: Being in Junkrat's body comes with a certain amount of baseline nausea. Being in Roadhog's body means he's strong enough to pop one of his own grenades like a grape.It's not as fun as it could have been.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Got two prompts and combined them: "Why is Rat so skinny?" and "What if Symmetra's teleporter fucked up?"
> 
> I'd love some critique of this work.

Being in Junkrat’s body meant a certain amount of baseline nausea, he was coming to find. An uneasy, unsettled feeling in his stomach- Rat’s stomach- had been bothering him since he opened his eyes and found the ground much closer than he’d been expecting it. Then, he’d been a little more than preoccupied trying to figure out why he couldn’t exactly feel his right hand, or why he seemed to weigh much less than he usually did. Or why he was staring at himself, watching a body he very much knew was his own stumble around, swinging huge arms as though he’d never used them before in his life.

Once he’d gotten Junkrat to stop flailing around like a toddler throwing a tantrum, he’d had time to stop and take stock of the situation. Hearing his own voice through different ears had been an experience- Rat chattering away in a low growl was one of the weirdest things he’d ever heard. There was the blue glow of one of Symmetra’s teleportation portals in the corner of his eye and he turned his head towards it, ignoring the way Jamie’s neck popped and snapped with the movement. The last thing he remembered before waking up as his partner was passing through it, on his way back to the battlefield after a pitstop at the aircraft carrier to grab a few more of Rat’s bombs and some extra canisters of hogdrogen. 

Somehow, he’d seen Rat coming through the other side as he was travelling, passing through the portal in the other direction.

Then, there’d been nothing but a high-pitched, annoying tinny whine in his ears.

Luckily for them, the mission had been almost over. The moment they returned to the airship, their teammates had realized something was wrong. Roadhog hadn’t gotten used to the weird, hobbling gait that Junkrat’s peg leg demanded, and so he could only stumble and curse his way up the ramp. Panicked breathing filtered through the lenses on his gas mask, and he could only guess that the adrenaline and fear his Junkrat was currently experiencing- while in Roadhog’s body- was starting up an asthma episode. 

A panic attack wouldn’t go well. They had to move and get back to base. Figure out what was going on in the relative safety of Gibraltar’s defended walls and not the open field of battle or the inside of an airplane. He couldn’t very well just pick his boss up and toss him over his shoulder to keep him moving, not in this skinny, lanky body. 

Symmetra looked up from her magazine as Mako fumbled his way towards her, holding Junkrat’s back straighter than she’d ever seen it. The junker could see a small sneer cross her face before she smoothed it into the calm mask she always wore. She didn’t like them, which was fine. She didn’t need to like them to fix the problem she’d made.

“Your teleporter fucked up.” He told her, and the words came out in Rat’s annoying drawl. The woman looked offended at the very suggestion, but before she could open her mouth to question it, a huge thud sounded from behind him.

Roadhog turned to see his body thrown haphazardly on the floor, chest heaving as Rat fought for breath.

“Hoggie, how do ya…” The words were cut off by a chest-rattling cough and Jamie hacked and wheezed, panting hard behind the mask’s filters. The rest of their team drew closer in concern and the little medic, who skated around the battlefield like it was a roller rink, hopped forward with his sound gun. He’d been keeping a wide berth from Symmetra for the whole mission, but it appeared that he was willing to be near her if someone was in trouble. 

“Canister.” Roadhog barked, and though it wasn’t as commanding coming from his current body, his boss scurried to obey. Huge hands patted down his belt and Rat came up with one of the brilliantly yellow containers that the bodyguard kept on him at all times. He’d found they worked better than an inhaler at times like this.

After a few puffs on it, Junkrat came away sputtering but breathing. Lucio skated forward and he caught the low beats of the medic’s healing music through the tinny roar in his ears. 

“Hooley dooley, how do ya do this Roadie? Felt like there was an elephant on me chest!”

Eyes blinked between the pair and Hog watched as Symmetra’s expression changed to confusion. He growled low in his throat and was gratified to see her stand up from her chair, perhaps finally now realizing that something had gone wrong. 

“Junkrat…?” A voice to their left asked tentatively, and he turned his new yellow eyes on Tracer. Mako shook the crispy blonde hair on his head and jammed his thumb over his shoulder to point at his real body, sprawled on the floor of the air carrier in a heap.

“Junkrat.”

He turned to indicate himself.

“Roadhog.”

A beat of dead silence. Satisfied that they understood the problem at hand, he turned to limp back to his body and dropped down on the ground beside it. The nausea in his stomach, coupled with the roaring in his ears and a dull ache coming from his right arm and leg, were adding up to be more than he wanted to deal with right now. A tentative hand found it’s way to his head, and Jamie carded thick fingers through the patchy hair currently on Hog’s head, fascinated. Letting him continue exploring, Mako leaned against his side and watched the assembled members of Overwatch, picking up the faces of absolute shock. To their credit, no one had laughed yet.

The ride back to base had been one of the most quiet he’d ever experienced, barring the frantic calls Lucio was making. From what he could hear of the conversation, Mercy would be waiting for them in the hanger with her full array of equipment. Like they were going to drop dead on the spot once they got off the airplane. Lucio was constantly hovering, his healing music turned on to full blast as though the sound waves alone could help them switch back to their usual bodies.

But now there they were, seated in the infirmary with Symmetra, Mercy, Lucio, and Winston staring at them. Junkrat twitched and squirmed underneath the multiple gazes, moving his huge body around in the space without regard for the fact he kept elbowing Hog in the back. There wasn’t enough room on the exam table for both of them, so he was leaning against its edge, arms folded as he waited for someone to say something. When they’d landed, the blonde doctor had hustled them into her medbay, stethoscope swinging from her neck as she moved around. They’d wanted blood samples and breathing tests, but Rat had refused all their attempts to monitor him on principle. Hog had followed suit, after a moment. It was Junkrat’s body, after all, and he knew how much his partner hated being poked and prodded by strangers.

The skinny junker had always had problems with doctors, slow to trust strangers and wary of people getting too close to him. Roadhog had only seen him brave a doctor’s office for his top surgery, and that had happened after he had a large bodyguard with a meat hook to back him up. He avoided Mercy as best he could, coming up with any excuse he could think of to get out of mandatory checkups and prosthetic tune-ups. They’d tried appealing to Roadhog to get him there, but the older junker wasn’t going to override what Rat wanted without damn good reason. He shoved some vitamins in the food they ate and made sure he bathed regularly enough, and that was all he’d do.

Now, though, Junkrat was trapped in the infirmary and he knew it. After a series of hushed conversations with Winston and Symmetra, Mercy approached the pair with her best calming smile. The group of scientists and doctors had withdrawn to themselves after they’d realized neither of the Junkers was going to allow many tests, probably trying to discuss the best way to handle the situation. 

“Well, as we cannot get accurate measurements on your physical states, we have to go purely by what you tell us about how you feel.” 

To the woman’s credit, there was only the slightest trace of annoyance in her voice.

“Roadhog, the symptoms you have described are all symptoms that Mr. Fawkes has confirmed to be normal for his body. Mr. Fawkes’ descriptions are normal according to the records I have for Roadhog. So, we don’t really have any choice but to conclude that the both of you, physically, are not experiencing any adverse side effects from this.”

Jamie giggled nervously behind him and a huge hand landed on his shoulder, subtly pulling the bodyguard closer to the table like a shield. It was a little ridiculous that Rat expected Hog’s body to be able to hide effectively behind the small, lanky form, and he had to fight the urge to chuckle at the image.

“Going forward, Ms. Vaswani will be working with Winston to try and understand what went wrong with the teleportation technology, and how to reverse it. We’d like both of you to remain on base until the problem is resolved, in case something else has been altered within your bodies and has not made itself known yet.”

Immediately a low groan came from behind him, Rat’s usual breathy giggling turning into a deep rumbling laugh. If there’d been any doubt about their story, he knew all one had to do was look at their body language to tell they were wholly different people. Being stuck on base definitely was going to make Jamie more stir crazy than usual, but it couldn’t be helped. Hog only hoped he could handle the nervous ball of energy his partner would become. It wasn’t like he could physically block the exit to their room anymore.

“Got it.” He answered for the both of them, and pushed off the exam table so that Junkrat could climb down. Their bed was calling his name, and he honestly couldn’t wait to sink into the covers and sleep for as long as he could. Maybe when he woke up, he’d find that this was all just a nightmare.

Jamie jumped down from the table behind him, and everyone in the room winced at the ground-shaking thud of his boots hitting the floor. The mask blocked whatever expression the kid might have made, but he could just imagine the sheepish, shit-eating grin that surely lay below the rubber. If Hog wasn’t careful, Rat was going to ruin his body just because he liked the sensation of being bigger than everything around him. Being taller wasn’t new, but having the width to match would definitely go to his head.

“Roadhog, could you wait a moment? I’d like to talk with you.” Mercy’s voice surprised them both and they stopped on their way out the door to look back at the doctor, movement eerily in sync. Her face betrayed nothing of her motives and Hog studied her for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, turning to nod at Junkrat.

“Be right outside, mate,” Rat stated with suspicion, less as a reassurance to Roadhog and more as a warning to Mercy. If the door had not been an automatic sliding door, Jamie would have almost definitely slammed it behind him as he left.

Once the other three people had cleared the room, Symmetra and Winston off to the laboratory and Lucio probably running to tell everyone what was going on, they were left alone. The infirmary’s patient in-take room seemed a lot bigger than it usually did to Hog as he waited for the doctor to speak.

“To put it bluntly, I am worried about Jamison’s health.”

Hog snorted.

“The symptoms you described are characteristic of radiation poisoning, and he’s been refusing treatment for it. His organs could be failing, or malfunctioning, and I would never know because he does not allow me to examine him.” Her accent got heavier as she spoke, and he could hear genuine concern for his partner in her voice. “His limbs are remarkably built for the materials that he had, but he doesn’t take proper care of the connection points and there’s a high probability they’ll get infected. And I can only imagine the damage his lungs have been through, inhaling smoke and fumes for so long. He's far too skinny for someone of his height and age, despite the fact he's been eating regular meals since he joined us.”

“Point.” He growled, when it seemed like she might go on forever listing all the things wrong with Junkrat. He knew all of this- had watched the shades of red Rat’s limbs would go after his sixth straight day of wearing the prosthetics, seen his partner vomit all his food and water up when his stomach decided it couldn’t take food that day. Had pulled him out of enough explosions to know that for every time he’d shielded the other from a blast, there’d been at least two more he’d been happily caught up in.

She sighed and stepped closer to him.

“I cannot help him because of his distrust of the medical profession. While I understand where it’s coming from, it’s getting in the way of his health and ability to live a long and happy life. I realize that it’s…. unethical, but I would like to ask your permission to take some blood samples and run some tests while you reside in Mr. Fawkes’ body. I promise, I only have the best intentions of helping him.” 

Without the mask hiding his face, Roadhog had no way of hiding his reactions. A huge, bushy eyebrow shot up into his hairline, surprise flitting across his face before giving away to anger. He didn’t have the same aversion to doctors that Junkrat did, true, but it didn’t mean he trusted her farther than he could throw her.  
Well, actually, farther than Junkrat could throw her.

“No.”

Mercy pressed her lips into a thin line, seemingly expecting the answer but upset with it anyway. Roadhog turned to go, uninterested in whatever she would say to try and change his mind. Rat was waiting outside and he wanted to be in bed as soon as humanely possible. The stump of his right leg was aching badly.

“Mr. Rutledge, he’ll die at 30 if he keeps this up.”

“It’s Roadhog.”

“Be serious, please.”

There was disapproval, sure, but underneath it he thought he could hear a true tone of pleading. It puzzled him- why the fuck should she care if Junkrat keeled over early? Sure, she was a doctor, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to help him. It wasn’t her fault that Jamie had a built in distrust of strangers and an even greater disliking of doctors. 

They were only criminals who’d joined up with Overwatch by happenstance and bad luck- not true members of the team. Neither of them wanted to be there, and he was pretty sure that very few people on the base were happy about their presence. At the first opportunity, they were going to cut and run. The Vaswani woman would probably build them another goddamn teleporter to anywhere in the world if they told her they were leaving for good. If he hadn’t been so fucking angry about the mistake, he might have found it funny that she had to dedicate her time to helping them now.

“Roadhog, can you really sit by and watch his body fall apart?”

‘Don’t you care?’ Echoed beneath the words.

“Rat can do what he wants, I’m just paid to keep shit from the outside from taking him down.”

‘No,’ he answered her unspoken question.

He didn’t feel like explaining the intricacies of their relationship to an outsider, someone who didn’t know shit about the place they came from. Junkrat had the freedom to destroy himself if he really wanted to. Hog wouldn’t stop him. If Hog really wanted to leave, he knew Rat wouldn’t come looking for him. What had the bomb been detonated for, if not for the freedom to live how you wanted? What had started the whole thing, except anguish at having that decision ripped from your hands?

Mako would stay with Jamie until the radiation ate him up. Hadn’t figured out what to do after that, if he was still alive when Rat finally wasted away. There didn’t seem much of a point to going back to robbing and pillaging his way across the world. Nor did he want to go back to the Outback and take up his old life, before he’d agreed to be a bodyguard. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Mercy in on any of that. Her desire to save everyone who walked through her doors whether they wanted it or not was her own problem. If she tried to force anything, Roadhog and Junkrat would be gone in a heartbeat. 

The doctor looked disapprovingly at him, standing much closer than she had been a few seconds before. Hog didn’t move back, just let her march straight up to him with her bottom lip worried between two teeth and big blue eyes brimming with sadness. 

Roadhog cut her off before she could speak. 

“Convince him. Not me.”

Reaching out, he pressed the button for the door before she could retaliate. Junkrat sprang back from the metal, nervous tittering and the position of his hands indicating that he’d been trying to hear their conversation. Hog wasn’t too worried about that- the doors of the base were pretty soundproof. Blastproof too, which was nice.

He marched down the hallway, determined to get to their bedroom with no interruptions. Originally they’d slept in the prisoner’s cells in the basement, before Overwatch had decided what to do with them. It had been at least a week before the higher ups gave them the choice between working for the organization or being turned over to the police. Hog hadn’t had much of an opinion either way; the police were easy to escape from, and the idea that they couldn’t get away from the group while on missions was laughable. Junkrat had liked the idea of working for Overwatch though, at least for a little while. It was new and exciting, and it’d drawn him in like a moth to a flame.

As members, they’d been given their own rooms and bathrooms, though they’d specifically requested that they be next to each other. That was a caveat Rat had added in before they accepted the deal; either they were sent out on missions together, or they simply wouldn’t go. 

Junkrat had wasted no time in making the rooms into one, rigging a few of his packs up on the wall between their spaces. The monkey who’d shown them their rooms sputtered in shock, mouth agape as Junkrat, coated in plaster, rooted around in the wreckage for a painting he’d forgotten to remove from the wall beforehand. Winston couldn’t decide whether to punish them for the destruction, or simply to let it go.

He’d made the right decision, in the end- even if it had been fixed, Rat would just blow it down again.

Secretly, Mako was glad. They’d spent so many nights holed up together, either crouching behind the only cover for miles around or squished on a motel bed while sirens rang outside, that he wasn’t so sure he could sleep without the jittery presence beside him anymore. Rat seemed to run a few degrees hotter than a normal person and he thrashed in his sleep, sending boney elbows and knees everywhere in an attempt to fight off whatever monster was attacking him in his dreams. But now it felt natural to have the Rat pinned to his side with a huge arm while they slept. He’d all but stopped waking up when a stray limb caught him in the mask. 

It was strange- for a stranger’s footsteps, or a crack of a branch, he’d wake up in a heartbeat. Not for Junkrat’s flailing though. 

“What’d the angel want?” Rat asked and Roadhog shrugged as they rounded a corner, entering the part of the base reserved for crew quarters. 

“To know if you needed an inhaler while you were in my body.” No need to feed the kid’s fear of doctors even more. If he knew that Mercy had been trying to go behind his back, Mako would never get him to let her bandage him up again. Medical professionals did have their uses, after all.

A peal of laughter, several times higher than Hog’s normal voice, filled the air at the notion. 

“Why tha’ fuck would she think I’d need one? Watched ya puff on yer canisters plenty of times ta know what ta do.”

Roadhog refrained from pointing out his panic attack in the air carrier, settling instead for stopping in front of the door to their bedroom. The reason he knew the doors in the base were blast proof showed around the edges, where the metal was the tiniest bit soot-stained and warped. Explosions were forbidden in the room, for fear of fucking up their weapons and equipment, but sometimes Rat just couldn’t help it.

Despite the smell of soot and ash in the air though, once inside it was easy to finally relax.

Mako threw himself onto the bed, enjoying the way it didn’t creak and shift underneath him like it usually would have. They’d shoved their individual beds together, to make one huge monstrosity that could hold both of them and all of the pillows and blankets they could want. In the space that had formerly been Rat’s room, they stored their weapons and belongings. The bathroom for that room had been turned into a miniature chemical lab, with containers of various liquids and powders stored in the bathtub and kept ready whenever Jamie wanted to work on his bombs. He’d been invited to use the communal lab space when they first got there, but the skinny junker was far too paranoid for that and Hog hadn’t been enthusiastic about having to tag along and watch in silence every time his partner wanted to tinker. It was easier to just have their own.

Junkrat moved into the bathroom that was free of chemicals, cursing loudly when he realized he couldn’t walk through the doorway normally anymore. It took him a few tries to find the angle that Hog had to turn to get through, and Mako laughed watching him. The situation sucked, but there were a few things he didn’t mind about it.

Things went quiet in the bathroom and then he heard a long, low whistle. Rat poked his head out of the room, suspiciously eyeing his partner lounging on the bed, and then disappeared again. After another moment of silence, he maneuvered his way out of the bathroom again and walked over to the bed. Mako couldn’t quite get used to the feeling of having someone tower over him- he’d never met a man taller or bigger than he was. He was used to doing the looming.

“You weren’t kidding when ya said we switched bodies, mate.”

Hog gave a short bark of laughter and felt his voice crack in Junkrat’s throat.

“Thought we were all joking?”

“I mean, yeah, kinda…”

Rat slumped onto the edge of the bed and Hog felt himself slide a few inches into the newly made indent. He hadn’t gotten used to staring at himself yet- to seeing features he knew to be uniquely his on a body separate from himself. Watching his hands twitch and squirm, the way he was used to seeing Rat’s move, was jarring. 

And his stomach still fucking hurt.

“Take off the bomb vest.” Mako eventually said, after he couldn’t stand to watch his own body any longer. Junkrat jumped like he’d been hit and the mask swung to face him. He couldn’t see any of his partner’s expression behind the glass lenses but eventually the other reached out to tap on the small, hidden button sewn into the thick straps of the harness. Had to make sure it wouldn’t explode the second it no longer detected a heartbeat, after all. He’d seen Rat do it before, but it was hard to see the switch if you didn’t know where it was already. Somehow, his partner had figured he needed an extra layer of security for his bomb vest.

When a little beep sounded and Rat nodded at him, he shimmied out of the harness with slight difficulty, the canisters bumping against themselves as he lifted it over his head. There were huge white lines on freckled shoulders from where the straps had prevented soot and ash from settling. Hog realized that he was absolutely covered in dust and bomb residue, head-to-toe coated in bits of scrap and concrete. Seeing as he definitely didn’t have the energy to wrestle himself into the shower, he’d have to sleep like that. The sheets would be a lost cause.

“Can I take th’ limbs off?” The older junker asked quietly and Rat’s gaze went from studying the errant dusting of spots on his shoulders to the mechanical limbs resting on the blankets. Hog desperately wanted to remove them and get some relief for the aching stumps on his right side. The little skin he could see there was red and angry- who knew how long it had been since Junkrat had taken off his limbs? Often he slept with them on, too uncomfortable with the notion of being defenseless even when Roadhog was there to protect him. 

It was still Rat’s body- he’d put up with the pain if his partner didn’t want the limbs gone.

After a minute, Jamie shifted his huge body more fully onto the bed and turned towards Mako. Large fingers reached out to begin the process of removing the peg leg, unbuckling the straps that held the limb tightly in place before moving to disconnect the neural connections. They were rudimentary in the leg, since all Rat really needed it to do was move in the correct direction when he wanted it to and bear his weight. Soon it slipped off and he sighed in relief as the stump of his right leg was bared to the open air. The hands didn’t move away once the task was done, experimentally ghosting fingers over the knotted mass of scar tissue that ended the limb, poking and prodding gently. It sent an ache throughout his whole body, but Junkrat was careful to avoid the patches of skin that had been rubbed raw by the prosthetic, massaging out the muscles of the thigh for Hog.

Mako had done it for the other before, at the end of a long day. He remembered the feel of the tissue as he kneaded and pulled, letting the knots work out and the nerves relearn how to function without the connection to the peg leg. Jamie had always groaned and sighed at the feeling, watching as he worked with a sleepy, contented expression. As far as Roadhog knew, he was the only person other than Rat who’d ever touched the stumps of his limbs.

Eventually, the stretching stopped and Junkrat reached out to begin the process of disconnecting his right arm. Infinitely more complicated, it had several sensors built into a port that lay right underneath the skin, meant to plug in and communicate Rat’s brainwaves to the mechanical fingers. There was a ring of scar tissue around the place the port rested, lumpy and uneven, signifying that the blonde had installed it there himself. It took a few seconds before Hog felt the loss of his right arm, sensation that he hadn’t even known was there going silent. Buckles and straps clanked as they slid off the limb and then Rat began to rub again, expertly working out the aching pain. 

They sat in silence until he deemed the arm ‘good enough’ and let the limb fall back to the sheets. The prosthetics were placed on a table next to the bed, one that they’d dragged in just for that purpose. Didn’t want Jamie to have to stumble through the apartment looking for them in the morning. 

“Yer quiet,” Mako stated as his partner began to fumble with weapons and armor pieces, watching Rat try and wiggle out of his bigger partner’s regular outfit. It was funny to see him struggle with the spikes and bits of rubber that Hog used for armor, but he didn’t move to try and help him. It was easier to lie on the sheets and watch as Junkrat all but bit his shoulder piece, trying frantically to tug it off.

Eventually his partner found the little latch and tore it off with a triumphant noise, finally collapsing back on the blankets in only a pair of overalls. They lay there in further silence for a few moments and Hog listened to the ringing in his ears once again, letting the tinnitus fill the void of conversation. Junkrat’s silence was worrying him, but the younger would speak when he was ready to. Probably.

“S’weird ta hear yer voice talking like I do.”

No arguing about that. He’d always been a man of few words, even before the Omnium blew. It was just easier to listen and learn, and choose to speak if he thought it necessary. If anything, the habit had only become more pronounced after his home turned into a radioactive wasteland. Often he’d go for weeks without seeing another person as he travelled, and that kind of silence took its toll on you. If he hadn’t met Rat, his vocal chords might have withered away into nothing.

He chuckled and turned to worm his way underneath the covers, stealing a pillow and a blanket before Jamie could use all of them to build his little blanket nest. The Rat liked to bundle himself in everything soft he could get his hands on and disappear into the folds of fabric, not even a tuft of blonde hair sticking out to indicate where he was. In his current body, Hog wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up completely wrapped in their entire fucking mattress, on the floor and snoring. 

The lights already out, they lay on the bed in silence for a few moments. Tension flooded his partner’s body, Junkrat afraid to move in case he knocked Roadhog off or somehow upset the delicate balance of the bed. The thing creaked and groaned every time he moved, and while it had always done that, he wasn’t used to being to one who had to watch how fast he moved. 

Rolling his eyes in the dark, he reached out to touch Jamie’s shoulder and felt him twitch underneath his hand. There was a brief moment of hesitation before Rat responded, twisting carefully onto his side so that he could reach out and draw Hog’s slight body against him. It was a position they’d slept in hundreds of times before, a way to ensure that they were both safe and present. Usually he’d end up wrapped around the other’s blanket nest, huge body serving as yet another layer. To be on the other end of that felt different and strange. Hog had long since stopped questioning the relationship between him and Rat, preferring to just let their lives play out how they would, but this brought the questions rushing back.

Beneath the ringing in his ears and the sound of wheezy, slow breathing, he let himself think of the place they’d found themselves in and the people who surrounded them. Overwatch was an anomaly, in his mind. Coming from a place where it was kill or be killed, it was hard to parse a group of people joining together for a reason other than survival. Even though he’d grown up in the world before the blast, it had totally transformed him. Mako had been a young man then, a man who believed in his freedom and wanted to fight for his home. Those years were a blur of bright color now- the brilliant green of grass and a garden, the endless blue of the sky, the stark white of fresh laundry. It was hard to remember how everything had been before it went dusty and drab and deadly.

As far as he knew, no one in the original Overwatch team had ever tried to help in Australia. That was the part that made the least sense to him. There’d been aid organizations over the years, which brought tents and supply drops, and promises of a cleaner, safer outback. Once a politician had decided to prove his mettle by taking a tour through Junkertown, accompanied by a brigade of armed soldiers and bottles of clean water to hand out to the residents. He’d had the good sense to avoid bringing any omnics along in his entourage, a decision which probably saved his life, but the newspapers had been covered with images of the black eye and broken arm he’d somehow received even with his guards.

But not Overwatch, the organization that might have actually made a difference in the fight; The ones who might have actually been able to help the residents before they descended into scrapping and fighting each other to survive. He knew that the original team had disbanded, and only a few of the people they were working with now had been on it, but they still had the gall to look at the Junkers and shake their heads. Call them violent and out of control. Whisper behind their hands when Junkrat ate like they’d snatch the food away from him at any moment, make faces and snicker when he shied away from anything vaguely to do with water. 

It was difficult for Hog to parse Mercy’s worry over Jamie health with the rest of the bunch’s obvious disdain for their two pet criminals. He was used to the indifference towards their situation, the obvious superiority the rest of Australia felt in comparison to the residents of Junkertown. It was almost insulting that the blonde doctor was worried only now, when she had to face the results of Overwatch’s negligence face to face. Even if Jamie agreed to her treatments, it still wouldn’t fix anything.

No one ever stayed focused on the Outback for long. Too hard to look at their mistakes and accept that real, living people had been destroyed. That people like Rat had to grow up drinking poisonous water instead of soda, eating lizards and bugs instead of mac and cheese.

As he thought, even the bed beneath him began to feel out of place. Mako sighed to himself and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, realizing he’d worked himself up enough that sleep would be impossible. Even though his eyes stung and burned at being open, inside his mind was filling with hate. When he had quiet moments like this, his spite and hate rose to the surface, filling him with the need to rip and tear. Mercy’s face, pleading and safe in his mind’s eye, warped into something mocking and full of pity. He felt satisfaction knowing that Jamie would never let her touch him, since she would have to live with the fact that she’d failed for the rest of her life.

Next to him, Rat shifted a little and the huge arm lying across Hog’s shoulders tightened, drawing him even closer to his chest. He felt like a stuffed animal, but there was little he could do about the situation. If this was how Jamie felt when Mako threw him over his shoulder to get him out of harm’s way, he might start doing it a little less. The sensation of being helpless was not one he could say he enjoyed. 

It had to be going on 3 am, at this point. It’d been quite late when the mission had ended, and they’d probably in the infirmary for at least an hour while the scientists and medics debated what to do about the problem. Junkrat had asked if they could just send them through the teleporter again and see if they’d switch back on their own, but his suggestion was immediately shot down for being too risky. Since they didn’t know exactly what had caused the glitch, there was no way to know if it would happen again or not. If it did happen again, it could be even worse than simply switching their consciousness.

A risk that Rat was willing to take, but one that Mako wasn’t quite sure would work. Better to let them sort it all out, than risk another accident.

“Hoggy, you awake?”

Roadhog turned his head to face the other and grunted in response, staring into the lenses on the gas mask. It was too dark to see any of what was behind them- you had to be in a very specific kind of light to make out his eyes behind the glass, let alone any of his scars or other facial features. Sometimes even he forgot what was behind the mask, after a week straight of wearing it. His gas mask felt more natural to see in the mirror than anything else. Now though, looking into it from the other side gave him a vaguely creepy feeling.

“Do ya think they’d let me look at the teleporter too? Reckon I can figure out what’s wrong faster than any of ‘em.”

He snorted and shrugged, inwardly thinking that the probability of Symmetra letting Jamie around her technology was exactly zero. She barely agreed to go on missions with them.

“’Course, I really just think that another go-through would do the trick. Opposite directions, same like last time, and we’d be back in our own bodies in fuckin’ no time.”

“Or it could kill us.”

“Yeah, sure, but what’s life without a little danger?”

Neither of them could say that they knew.

Before he could really talk his partner out of the crazy idea, Jamie shot up in bed and looked around the room wildly, most likely squinting behind the mask to see what he could find. Hog grumbled to himself and rubbed his hand over his face- gone was the tension that had radiated off Rat in waves. Now he was focused and excited, scrambling off the creaking bed as fast as he could in Hog’s body.

“They’ll be in the lab all night, roight? Tryin’ ta figure it out? Why don’t we go nick some of the tech from Symmetra’s room, and bring it back here? We’ll be in and out afore anyone even notices we left our room and I can work on it and figure out the problem.”

All of Mako’s instincts screamed the words ‘bad idea’ and he forced himself up into a sitting position to watch Junkrat move around the room, picking up random objects and inspecting them closely before setting them down in annoyance and moving on.

“Get back to bed.” He growled, the words not as threatening as he would have liked them to be in Rat’s voice. The command was ignored and Jamie eventually came up with a small toolkit, the case comically small in his hands. It was what he used for repairs on the inner workings of his arm and was full of screwdrivers, pliers, and wrenches.

“I’ll be back in a tick, scout’s honor. Just gonna pop down the hall.”

Vibrating with excitement, he was out the door in a second and all Hog could do was sigh and roll out of bed. He couldn’t go far without the prosthetics on, since he didn’t have Jamie’s years of practice at maneuvering on one leg, but he also didn’t know the trick to getting the prosthetic arm on one handed. Whenever he was around, Rat asked him for help with it, and it was a little hard to know what happened when he wasn’t there to offer assistance. Mako could hear footsteps getting further away down the hall, towards what he assumed to be Symmetra’s room. Rat was the one who knew where everyone in this damn place slept- Roadhog had never cared enough to know.

Groaning, he fell back against the covers and sighed. If he’d been in his regular body, it would have been no trouble to just trap Rat in bed until he got the message and gave up on his plan. But there was no way he was strong enough to stop a man with the size of a mountain and the energy of a firecracker. 

Instead of the alarms he expected though, the footsteps soon returned down the hall, significantly slower and quieter this time. The door to their room opened with a soft whoosh and Junkrat crept inside, stepping over to the edge of the bed. Before Hog could ask him what had happened, he was scooped up into Jamie’s arms and tossed over his shoulder, held in place by a huge hand that kept him from wiggling off.

He kicked in surprise, lashing out with his fist to try and catch Rat off-guard, but his efforts were only met with a stifled giggle, the rumble of it vibrating through both of their bodies.

“I see why ya do this so often now, Roadie! It’s so fun!”

“Jamison. Put me down.”

Rat obliged after another few seconds of walking, unceremoniously dumping him on the ground in front of a door. The small toolkit he’d been carrying early was on the floor and open, a screwdriver and set of pliers waiting to be used. 

“Yer hands are too big for me tools. Can’t get a good grip. I’ll tell you what to do and you move them, got it?”

“Not helping.”

“Oh, come on!” He whined, and shoved the gas mask up on his face with one hand. Mako was treated to the sight of his face pouting, lower lip pushed out and eyes big. As if the puppy dog eyes had ever worked on Roadhog when it was coming from Jamie’s face, let alone Hog’s.

“Put it back on.” Mako hissed, quickly looking around the hall to make sure they were truly alone. Cameras were kept out of the crew’s hallways and rooms as a courtesy, but there was no telling when someone would come around the corner and see them. Even at 3am, the base never fully went to bed.

Jamie had the grace to look suitably ashamed of himself and quickly tugged the mask back over his features, once again fully concealing Hog’s face. The older junker glowered at him from his position on the floor for a minute longer, before he sighed and turned to the toolkit to pick up a screwdriver. He’d get no peace tonight if he didn’t at least put on a show of helping Rat steal the teleporter technology. Sleep might have been impossible at this point, but he could still lie in bed and finish his book while Jamie fucked around and tried to understand exactly what had happened. 

A muffled, quiet cheer went up behind him and he felt his partner kneel behind him, head coming to rest on his shoulder so that he could study the keypad as Roadhog began to unscrew the small bolts that held it to the wall. Athena controlled most of the operations of the base, but they’d left a few things offline. Member’s personal rooms were out of her control, accessed by a handprint scanner and accompanying place to type in a password. The Junkers did appreciate the extra level of security- having a glorified bot in charge of their sleeping quarters would have ensured they wouldn’t be sleeping a night while they were part of Overwatch.

When there were wires popping out, he moved aside so Rat could stare at them intently for a moment, trying to figure out which ones needed to be cut in order to open the door. Eventually he directed Hog to cut the yellow wire, and then the blue one, and the door slid open as if by magic.

Looking incredibly proud of himself, Jamie marched into Symmetra’s room and Roadhog stared after him before casting a doubtful glance at the control panel left broken and undone.

“Will that door still close?”

“Nah.” The younger junker said cheerily, standing in the center of the room to look around. The Indian woman’s room was the exact opposite of the Junker’s in every way. Where they had piles of gear lying around, hers way piled neatly on it’s own shelf, easy to see and ready for use. There was a desk with a few notebooks and pens. Instead of the usual overhead lights that flicked on whenever someone entered a room on the base, soft blue light began to flood the bedroom. On the walls, seemingly drawn out of the light she used to make her weapons and creations, spiraling, symmetrical patterns had been traced out. They covered the entirety of the walls, providing soft, gentle light instead of the harshness of fluorescents. From his place on the floor, Mako was able to inspect the rub that covered the entirety of the floor, woven in a pattern of silver and blue that reflected the light from the designs on the walls. It was hard to track where each line went, as they all curled and doubled back on themselves in an intricate, knot. He almost felt bad watching Rat step on it, before his mind kicked him back into reality. Roadhog began to mentally calculate how much the objects in the room might be worth.

Of course they’d probably never get a chance to sell a full area rug, especially one that lived in the crew quarters of Overwatch’s headquarters, but you never knew.

Junkrat knelt next to the shelf of equipment after a minute, scanning the row of devices for something that looked similar to Symmetra’s teleporters. He’d never gotten the chance to study them all that closely, given how guarded she was around the Junkers, but he thought he had a pretty good idea. They unfolded like flowers, so he was just looking for something with petals and leaves.

Letting Jamie snoop around for the moment, Hog squinted over at the desk, trying to read the little labels along the sides of the notebooks. Rat’s sight was better than his, but they were too far away for him to be able to tell much about what they might say. All he could see was that the handwriting was neat and orderly. 

He actually admired how organized all of the woman’s things were. He’d valued order in his home before the blast, and he still enforced a few rules about their gear and food to ensure they didn’t leave anything behind. Mostly though, Roadhog had given up on any semblance of organization , and any lingering traces of it had vanished after living with Rat for a month. As long as the gasoline was stored away from where he was working on his bombs and they weren’t leaving their weapons and gear everywhere, he really couldn’t find it in him to complain too much.

“Aha!” Jamie exclaimed and spun away from the shelves, holding onto two identical devices in a hand. He looked closer and noted the small parts that looked like they moved, forming the base upon which the teleporter rested. Nodding, the older junker moved towards the door now that their job was done, eager to be back in the safety of their room. They’d be leaving behind a broken door, and anyone would easily be able to put two and two together to figure out who’d committed the break-in when it was discovered what had been taken. But if his partner could figure out what had gone wrong and fix it before they were discovered, than no one could be too angry with them.

Hell, the most they’d do anyway was take them off missions for a few days as punishment. As if they actually wanted to be going on Overwatch’s errands like trained dogs. 

Nevertheless, as Rat scurried past him, he cleared his throat and gestured to the door. At first, all he was given was a cock of the head and a blank stare that he could see even with the mask in the way. Hog mimed a pulling motion and gestured at the door a few times, watching as the gears worked in Jamie’s head until he realized what his partner wanted. 

Gingerly, he laid the teleporters on the ground and went back to the room door, working his fingers around the edge of the hidden edge. Muscles strained as Junkrat pulled on the broken door, attempting to slide it back into place and hopefully delay the discovery of their crime. Hog left him to it and picked up the screwdriver once again, screwing the panel back into the wall. Nothing could reconnect the wires they’d snipped, but until someone tried to enter Symmetra’s room, you couldn’t even tell something was wrong.

With a grunt, Rat pulled the door into it’s usual place and stepped back to admire his handiwork, huffing slightly.

“Hooley dooley mate, yer fuckin’ strong.” Huge hands wandered over their arms, as if feeling the knotted muscle beneath the skin for the first time. Somehow, Hog felt a little self-conscious watching Rat feel the strength in his borrowed limbs. 

“Y’knew that.” He grunted, mildly embarrassed as Jamie leaned down to heave him up in his arms again. Unfortunately for him, the day Jamie ran out of things to say would be the day the sun swallowed the planet.

“Yeah, sure, but watchin’ ya rip someone’s head off ain’t the same thing as doin’ it yerself, yaknow?”

“Don’t kill anyone.”

That was the last thing he needed to deal with right now- Junkrat accidentally killing one of the members of Overwatch while in Hog’s body. He was sure they could kiss their chances of escape goodbye if that happened. They’d be tossed into detention cells, separated and alone for the rest of their lives. While they could do it if they were together, the agents of Overwatch were a hell of a lot harder to escape from than your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill cop.

“I would never!” Rat gasped, as if the very suggestion offended him.

“You would.”

A beat of silence while they stopped in front of their room door. Roadhog keyed in their password and laid his palm flat against the sensor, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as he watched Jamie struggle to answer for a moment before finally giving up. 

“Yeah, alright. I would.”

After dumping Mako on the bed, Junkrat set the teleporters on his workbench and dropped the toolkit next to them, looking around the room for anything else that might be useful in figuring out what made these things tick. Hog’s eyes stung every time he blinked them, but he ignored the feeling in favor of rolling over and snagging his book from the bedside table. He was plenty used to sleeping while Jamie worked on his bombs or his tire, but trying to go back to sleep would just result in more unnecessary thinking. He hadn’t gotten this far in his life by overthinking every situation he found himself in.

Plus, his stomach was really beginning to bother him. Now that he didn’t have something completely urgent to focus on, the nausea was making itself known once again. As Junkrat began to take apart the metal casing of the teleporter’s, Hog curled in on himself, hand pressed to his belly. He’d taken inventory of all the different sensations he was feeling, back in the infirmary when Mercy had seemed certain they’d both drop dead at any moment. That had been clinical and precise.

Here, in the dark, it was almost overwhelming.

Aside from the cramping in his stomach, his limbs throbbed and ache, the raw skin at the end of the stumps unhappy at being exposed to the open air. Hog supposed he should be grateful they weren’t phantom limb pains, things he knew Rat got on occasion, but it was hard to tell and harder to tell himself he was lucky with the ringing in his head. Sometimes Jamie was up all night with the pain, trying and failing to stifle his sobs so he wouldn’t wake Hog up. It was a miracle his partner wasn’t deaf from all the times he’d stood at the epicenter of a bomb blast, but the years of doing so had definitely taken their toll. 

Heart thudding in his chest, Mako managed to make himself uncurl, focusing on Jamie across the room.

A worklight had been turned on over the desk and he could see the occasional glint of a screwdriver or a wrench. It had only been a few short minutes, but the teleporter was already in pieces, parts scattered over the surface of the workspace. He hoped Rat could remember how to put it back together again- they needed two of the devices to have any chance of this succeeding, and he didn’t think Symmetra would be amenable to lending them another one. There didn’t seem to be any problem using the tools this time, despite Jamie’s newly large hands, and it made Roadhog wonder why the hell he’d been co-opted to assist with opening Symmetra’s door. 

The mask had been removed so that the other could see what he was doing without the impediment of glass, and Mako studied his face for a moment. It was different, seeing it without looking in a mirror. There it only made the faces he told it to, only did what he wanted it to. Jamie’s eyes were screwed up in concentration, head bowed low over his workspace. Hog could see the silver of stubble dusting his cheeks, and beneath them the intricate lines of his Tā Moko. They were grooves worn into his face, made by chisel and then filled in with ink to tell the story of his family. There were a few scars that slashed through the lines, disrupting the pattern, but they’d never bothered him- they were a different way of telling stories.

Now he watched his teeth biting the inside of his lip, as Jamie tilted his head to the side and set about rewiring a particular portion of the device in front of him. It was a habit so thoroughly unlike him that Hog felt uncomfortable, focused on the yellow teeth and the bite marks they left behind. To watch his own face- a sight that he saw rarely anyway, since he considered the mask to be a second skin- making expressions that he had not told it to make left a sour taste in his mouth. The older junker felt very out of place lying on the bed with someone else’s nausea and tinnitus, someone else’s aches and pains. Seeing his face make someone else’s expressions.

If this was what an out-of-body experience was like, he wanted absolutely no part in it. 

Yet he could not help but lie in limbo, wishing they’d never gone on that idiotic mission, never fallen into Overwatch’s hands, never decided to leave the Outback and travel the world. Occasionally his partner would glance over at the bed and their eyes would meet for a quick second. It never lasted long- always Rat looked away after a moment, a frown crossing his features.

Jamie kept muttering under his breath, and while normally he could pick the individual words, the pitch of his voice was so low that all Mako could hear was a low rumble. The smaller-turned-bigger junker ducked under the table, connecting something to the power outlet underneath, before he resurfaced with a wicked grin. This time when he turned to Hog, his eyes were glazed over with excitement. 

“Ya ready, Roadie? Gonna turn this thing back on, get it working, and boom, bang, we’re back where we belong in no time!”

Mako shrugged, sitting up on the bed and scooting back against the headboard to watch what happened. He trusted it not to explode, since he’d been watching Rat the entire time and there hadn’t been any visits to the chemical lab in their bathroom. Other than that, though, he had his doubts about how effective Rat’s tinkering would be. The teleporters seemed intimately connected to the gear that Symmetra wore and her ability to manipulate forms of light. The only kind of light Jamie had ever worked with was the kind that came from a flash grenade, and while he had no doubt his partner could figure it out given enough time, it had only been about an hour.

At the very least, he hoped it wouldn’t break from whatever Rat had done to it. 

Junkrat flipped a switch on the side of the device and dropped it on the ground, standing back from it with a proud grin. The little stand whirred and shimmied from side to side in a way that he’d never seen before, seemingly almost dancing as it tried to figure out what it wanted to do. While Mako never watched the set-up of the damn things, always a little preoccupied making sure Rat wasn’t standing in the direct line of fire, he was sure he’d never seen it do that.

As the seconds dragged on, he was about to remark as such to his partner when the teleporter made an awful grinding sound, and stopped moving entirely. From within its belly, smoke began to rise, filling the air with a grey haze that smelled like charred metal. 

Jamie made a noise of frustration, stomping his foot as he watched it fall on it’s side, more of the smoke pouring out from a hole in the bottom. Hog cast his eyes up to the smoke detector on the ceiling, waiting- they disabled it when they got the chance, but somehow the monkey always got a repairman in to fix it whenever they weren’t looking. Rat had started talking about leaving traps for him at the door, but since there hadn’t yet been a bear trap set out for while they were gone, there was no way to know if it had been fixed yet. He held his breath in anticipation of the sprinklers snapping on and showering everything they owned. 

But all that changed was Junkrat, who stomped over to the fire extinguisher Hog kept in their room and snatched it up. Instead of using it, he shook it like he blamed it for the failure of his attempt, sneering down at the bright, red canister. 

Normally, Roadhog would have been happy to let him work out his aggression wherever he wanted, but if the thing didn’t stop smoking soon, their room would be filled. His asthma wouldn’t take kindly to that, even with the hogdrogen.

“Jamison.” He said, before his partner could crush the canister in his hands. A huge head turned to him, and Hog gestured at the teleporter on the ground, giving the other a pointed look. Eventually the younger junker sighed and aimed the nozzle of the extinguisher at the smoking pile of metal, coating it in the flame-smothering substance. They’d never bothered to learn what it was.

After there was a small mountain of white foam quivering on the carpet, Rat was giggling once again. He turned to aim the nozzle and the bed but the older junker snarled at him, fixing him with his best glare. While it couldn’t have been as good as his usual ones, given the fact that he was missing his mask, Junkrat turned back to the desk after a second. He’d tried to stick his tongue out that the man lying on the bed, but had only succeeded in licking the inside of the mask, running his tongue over stitches and leather. To hide his embarrassment, he turned the fire extinguisher back on the desk and gave the other teleporter a healthy coating in the white foam too. Since one of them was already broken, there was no point in keeping the other around. Behind him, Hog sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, imagining the cleanup they’d have to do tomorrow.

With his eyes shut, the only warning he got of the brat’s plan was the clink of the fire extinguisher as it was tossed into a far corner, away from the bed, and the soft, stifled laugh he used when doing something wrong.

Mako’s eyes flew open in time to see his partner charge for the bed, all 550 lbs of him running as fast as he could in the tiny space. All he could do was try and roll out of the way to avoid being crushed as the impact sent pillows and blankets flying through the air. Hog himself joined them, his skinny body launched from the mattresses by the sheer force of Rat’s jump. There wasn’t enough time to brace for the impact of the floor- the best he could hope for was a bruise and not something that would require another trip to Mercy that night.

Rat’s huge hand swooped out of thin air and grabbed onto his ankle before he could get far. The low, rumbling laugh rang through the room again as Mako rapidly changed directions, head snapping back as he was tugged out of his flight path and against a huge, soft stomach. His entire body vibrated from being directly on Junkrat’s body, as he giggled and laughed at the sight of his bodyguard rocketing through the air. 

“Mate, ya think you could step on one of me mines? Might have to be two, actually. Then pigs could fly!”

As he talked, the hand he’d used to snatch him out of air pressed against his back, forcing Hog down against his chest to ensure that the other wasn’t going anywhere. Roadhog bared his teeth at his partner, furious, and tried to wiggle out of the grip, but Junkrat was too strong and he didn’t have all of his limbs on at the moment.

“Fucking cunt,” The older junker seethed, and was treated to the sight of a mischievous smile as Rat grinned down at him, seemingly pleased with himself. Without showing any intention of releasing Roadhog, he settled back against the pillows and covers, shoving them back into place with his free hand. 

“Let go.”

Nah. I like holdin’ ya.”

Mako thumped a fist against his chest, but Jamie only held him tighter, the dim light of the room casting shadows over stubble-covered cheeks.

Eventually all he could do was grumble and relax against the tattooed belly underneath him. Rat was too strong, and he was a little too tired to keep struggling.

“…Do ya feel okay?” 

The question was unexpected and Roadhog blinked in surprise.

“Eh. Stomach’s shit.”

Nervous laughter. “Yeah. Always is. Sorry.”

“S’fine. Been worse.”

Absently, he wondered if Jamie was planning to clutch onto him like this all night. His moods changed so fast- one moment confident in his abilities, the next frustrated when things didn’t go his way, the next playful enough to jump onto the bed and send his bodyguard flying. It was hard to tell what mood he was in now, with the light dim and Hog’s eyes still burning from lack of sleep. It was too late for him to try and make guesses about what his partner was feeling.

“You think I should, uh-“

“Go to sleep, Jamie.”

He felt Rat huff, the exhalation of air jostling him for a moment. The hand on Hog’s back drifted up to rub at the strands of blonde hair on his head, stopping to feel the crisped strands and toasted ends as if they were completely new. Mako himself preferred to touch as little of his own face as possible- he knew exactly where the scars were, where the lines for his Tā Moko had been cut. Didn’t need a reminder.

“They’ll figure this out right?”

The whisper was barely heard over the roaring in his ears but Hog turned his head up to watch Rat. The mood had changed again, dipping into fear.

“Sure.” At a loss as to what Jamie wanted from him, he grunted out the one word answer and then waited. Comforting words weren’t his strong suit and Rat knew that. 

“Good. Don’t want you to… I mean, uh. Don’t want ya to have ta be stuck with me aches and pains for too long. Got enough of yer own.”

“M’fine.”

“Sure, I know.”

It didn’t sound like he did. Heaving a sigh, Hog shoved himself up onto one elbow, letting the bony point dig into the other’s side just a little. Revenge for all the times he’d received a blow to the gut from the blonde’s sharp elbows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, just feelin’ bad about it, yaknow? Just cause I’m irradiated to hell, ya gotta deal with it. The damn doc thinks I’m gonna drop any day now, and yer stuck in my body, so…”

He snorted and let his body flop back against the other’s stomach, realizing what had him so worried. Honestly, Hog should have known he’d been eavesdropping on the conversation with Mercy. Instantly the hand returned, petting through his hair, and Hog had to admit that it felt nice.

“Not gonna drop dead tomorrow, Rat. Not gonna die your death for you.”

“Course! ‘Course, yeah, I know that!”

Junkrat lapsed into silence once again and Roadhog had to roll his eyes, face hidden from the other’s view. After a minute, he heard a sharp intake of breath before another pause-

“Don’t pay ya enough for that, right?”

“Go to sleep.” Mako repeated. At least one of them should get some rest that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tech talk at the end of the chapter is 100% pure, FDA approved, grass-fed, organically raised, bullshit.
> 
> Hope y'all like this!

It’s hard to sleep when you’re afraid you’re going to fall off the bed at any moment. He knew he kicked around in his sleep- he’d rolled off enough motel beds to know that his body continued moving, even during his down time. Hog had taken to pinning him to his side with one huge hand, and that seemed to work okay if the goal was just to keep him from tumbling onto the floor. There was nothing the pair of junkers could do about the thrown elbows or jerky head movements. Roadie had gotten used to it real quick though. It was impressive, all the stuff Roadie had gotten used to.

Honestly, Rat didn’t know what it was that kept his partner around. The location of the treasure was long since divulged, a few years back under the smog-choked canopy of the Australian night sky. Jamie knew perfectly well he was an annoying little shit, knew he was hard for people to take in large doses. Especially for someone like Hog, who seemed to thrive on his silence and books.

Whatever it was that kept the big lug around though, he was forever grateful for it- somewhere, in the back of his mind, he didn’t really mind the radiation poisoning. Although Hoggie thought he was hiding it pretty well, Rat had figured out he was slipping vitamins and iodide pills into their food ever since they arrived at Overwatch. That was alright. There wasn’t any amount of iodide that was going to reverse the years of poison swirling underneath his skin. In the dead of night Junkrat traced patterns between the freckles on his skin, drawing swirls in the soot and imagining the radiation inside him. 

Tonight was the first night that he could remember where he wasn’t doing that, in fact. And it was because it was his turn to pin a too-skinny, too-twitchy body to his side, make sure it didn’t fall off the bed. 

Only, the twitches weren’t all his physical body. So with his huge hands and legs, and massive frame that took up twice the size of the bed, Junkrat had to fight the urge to move, roll over. Do something, anything other than lie still and wait for sleep, or dawn. Whichever came first. 

Jamie’s eyes popped up and he stared at the ceiling above him. Dark and shadowy, like it always was after they went to bed. The pair liked it pitch black in their room when they slept- the less light, the harder it was for someone to ambush them, and the easier they could fight back. Darkness had never been an issue. Beside him, he heard some shifting. Rat had to fight the urge to turn his head- the movement would definitely bump Hog, and if the guy was just turning over in his sleep, Jamie didn’t want to bother him. It was too much to hope for that his partner would be unable to sleep too.

“You’re awake.” Came the hushed voice from the crook of his arm, and Junkrat turned his head in the direction of the words, eyes hunting through the dark for a peek at his friend.

“How’d ya do that?” He asked, voice louder than he’d intended it to be, and the boom of the baritone vibrated his chest. 

“Know you.”

“Ya should… Cause I’m you right now, remember?”

Chuckling at his weak joke, Rat carefully shifted, pulling his arm from around Hog so he could sit up. Before he could reach over to the switch on the wall beside their bed, Roadhog beat him to it. They both blinked in the sudden fluorescents. Rat shut his eyes and threw his arm over his head to shield himself from the glare, feigning a grevious injury. Previous concerns about knocking his partner from the bed were completely forgotten as he wiggled and groaned, occasionally peeking over his arm to see if Hog was buying it. Instead of the usual blank mask he usually saw when he did things like this, he could actually see a face. 

Granted, it was generally unamused and staring, but it was still nice to see a face for once.

It didn’t bother him so much, looking at himself. Jamie had never spent much time around mirrors, and it was kind of nice to be able to study himself for any length of time. He’d almost forgotten what color his eyes were. What bothered him was thinking of Hog having to deal with his daily aches and pains, the hassle of his missing limbs and the damn ringing in his ears. He already fucked things up enough- the big lug had enough to do to keep him from killing himself without having to add more to the pile. 

Plus, there was Roadie’s conversation with the doc. He’d managed to pry a small panel off the wall and pressing his ear to the resulting space let him overhear most of what they said. Mercy had given him 5 years or less, and while he usually didn’t put much stock into what doctors said, he felt reasonably confident someone who could resurrect people from the dead could be trusted to know what she was talking about. Truthfully, he was glad for the fact that he was probably going to kick the bucket before Mako. It had only been a few years, but Junkrat didn’t know what he would do without the guy around. He was more than his bodyguard at this point- sure, he did that, but he also helped him keep his head on straight. Reminded him of things he forgot about, made sure he didn’t blow off any fingers or toes messing with chemicals. Helped him on the nights when his missing limbs ached.

Rat didn’t want to go back to scrounging around in the dirt without Hog. He knew he could- years of survival ability didn’t just melt away after you found someone to take care of you. But he felt warm, happy, when the big guy was around. 

Having someone that cared would always be a new feeling. Because Roadhog did care, no matter what impression he might give to the outside world, or try to give to Junkrat. Or to himself. Rat knew he cared, and he kept that tucked close to his chest, for nights when his mind tried to convince him otherwise. For days when the sun seared just a little too hot and he felt as though he’d crawl out of his skin.

“Fall asleep?” A low voice asked, and Junkrat realized he’d frozen in the throes of his fake convulsions, one arm covering his face. Quickly, he sat up and stuck out his tongue to answer Roadhog’s question. The other man rolled his eyes- visible for once, not just imagined behind the glass eyepieces of the mask- and carefully climbed off the bed, heading to the desk. He balanced on the edge of the bed with his one hand, moving forward in the small hops he’d seen Rat do when he wasn’t wearing his prosthetics. 

Settling in the chair at the workbench, the older junker leaned over to grab his scrap gun off the floor and set it on the surface of the table. Had to clean the gunk out of the thing before it settled in and crusted and made the inner workings disgusting. Even if they were in different bodies, weapon care was essential. Couldn’t have something jam in the middle of a firefight.

After all of a minute, Jamie found himself bored with the spectacle of Hog cleaning his gun. It must have been five in the morning, still too early for most of the base to be awake. They didn’t interact much with the others though- who knew what kind of shit the other agents got up to when he and Hog weren’t around? While the pair was there, it was mostly missions and meals eaten in an awkward silence.

“Hoggie, I’m bored!” 

“Don’t care.”

He groaned, stretching the sound out to make it as long and annoying as possible.

“C’mon, there’s gotta be something we can do! Can we go get breakfast?”

“Too early.”

A pillow landed next to him on the workbench, scattering a few stray nuts and bolts to the ground. Hog sighed and looked up at him, studying the huge form bouncing up and down on the bed.

“Clean m’hook, if you want somethin’ to do.” He mumbled at Junkrat, motioning to the meat hook lying on top of their gear. It was crusted with blood in some spots- not the dirtiest he’d ever seen it, but certainty not sanitary. While it would give him something to do, Rat was sure it would only occupy him for another minute or so. The hook only really interested him when it was ripping through someone’s organs, or punching through a hole in the wall to take out security guards inside. 

“Can we go to the training range?” Jamie asked suddenly, with a twinkle in his eye. “I wanna throw yer hook around!”

Roadhog looked up from his work and pursed his lips together at the question, following Rat’s gaze to his hook. He wasn’t as overprotective of the thing as he was of his bike, but he was still nervous about handing it over to inexperienced hands. It had taken him a long time to figure out how to throw it without hurting himself or just having it clatter uselessly to the ground.

But if he didn’t figure something out for Junkrat to do, he’d have to deal with caging his boss in until they were summoned for a meeting or left their room for a meal break. There was no way they’d be breaking into Symmetra’s room again for test materials, and the scientists probably wouldn’t want Rat working on his own problem. They’d stop by the medical bay later for an update on any progress.

And really, throwing around his hook wouldn’t hurt the training room too much. It had taken harder hits from the kid’s explosives, not to mention what it must go through when that rocket knight decided to practice with his giant hammer.

It took all of 30 seconds for Hog to shrug and set aside his scrap gun. Rat took that as a victory and cheered, racing over to the bag on the floor to heft up the meat hook, turning it’s handle over in his hands so he could study it. He’d seen every inch before, but there was something new about holding it in his own hands- well, not his own hands, but hands he controlled- and seeing the find details up close. The junker couldn’t help but snort when he saw the letters engraved on the heads of the rusty nails Hog had driven into the metal. Everyone thought that he had a flair for the dramatic, but Roadhog could give him a run for his money.

They were dressed and ready to go within minutes. Neither of them had bothered to undress before falling into bed the night before, too exhausted from the day’s events to function. If they were being honest with themselves, they were still exhausted, but this was a level of sleep deprivation they could work with. Nothing too bad yet. Junkrat helped his partner buckle on his prosthetics and felt Hog’s eyes on his fingers the whole time, studying how the various buckles and straps worked, and how exactly they slotted into the neural connections. The gas mask went on his own face last, after he’d reattached Hog’s winch to his belt and fit the hook into the it’s little slot. Back to having absolutely no peripheral vision and smelling sweat with every breath he took- given the amount of times Roadie got on him for not taking a bath, you’d figure that he’d at least wash his own things before they started to smell like ass.

The corridor was brightly lit and empty of other people, exactly the way they liked it. The pair of junkers made their way through the base, taking longer routes to avoid the lounges and kitchen where other members liked to hang out. Just in case. Jamie had tentatively made a few connections with some of them but he should probably avoid them until the whole situation was resolved. He’d forget his own strength and knock one of them through a wall, with all the bad luck he’d had lately. Then they’d never want to hang out with him again.

Inside the training room, the lights were already on. Looking into the corner, he saw a few of the training bots were humming and making little short, jerky movements, a signal that they’d already been warmed up and awake. However, there was no one else to be seen inside the room. Rat furrowed his eyebrows and glanced down at his partner, wondering who was possibly up before them to use the equipment. He furrowed his eyebrows and frowned harder when he got no answer from Roadhog, not even a grunt- then realized that his facial expressions couldn’t be seen through the mask.

Fuck that was going to get annoying.

The AI program that ran the base came to life once Junkrat and Roadhog crossed a painted line on the floor, signaling their intention to use the room for it’s intended purpose. Athena was always nothing but cordial to the pair of junkers, despite the rather cold reception she got from the pair of them. Why exactly the base had to be run by a bloody robot was beyond Rat’s comprehension. There were enough people here to keep the lights on and make food- what else needed to be done?

“Good morning. You are awake early today.”

“Stuff it.” Jamie mumbled in the general direction of the ceiling. “Gimmie some bots to throw a hook at.” 

After a few seconds of processing the command, some of the training bots which had been left on jerked into motion and spread themselves out in front of Junkrat, still and waiting for their turn to be grabbed and smashed. One of the best thing about Overwatch was how easily they could smash some bots, even if they didn’t have the intelligence of actual Omnics.

Glancing to the side, he saw Roadhog standing a few feet back with his arms folded across his chest, waiting for Rat to start with an impenetrable expression. When the younger junker turned back around, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance down at his new body in comparison.

Roadhog was exactly the opposite of everything the Outback said he should be. It was something that Junkrat always admired about him- even as the world fell down around him, as his home was poisoned and his friends killed for the cause they believed in, he stayed the same. Where Rat was sunken and hollow, all sharp angles and wiry limbs, Hog was large and strong. Jamie’s body was built from malnutrition and dust, held together by energy and a sincere certainty that if he ever stopped moving for even a minute, he would fall apart. Roadhog was a tree, standing firm and tall, silent and unmoving.

Where other junkers were twitchy and paranoid, he was still and calm. Where others were starved, hollow eyes hunting for lizards and beetles in the sand, Roadhog maintained bulk and strength far beyond what should have been possible. The world had ended all around him, and yet he stayed the same. Being in that body now, with the image of the skinny kid he usually was burned into his brain, he felt an odd sort of jealousy. 

These huge hands weren’t his. Junkrat was a product of his environment, completely adapted for survival- Hog adapted the space around him to fit his needs, taking what he wanted by hook and gun. 

Holding the hook felt wrong. It wasn’t a weapon used by prey.

But now he was overthinking again and he had to shake himself out of the hole his thoughts had dug him into, blinking around at the training room again as if seeing it for the first time. Junkrat was still adjusting to seeing everything through the lenses on Roadhog’s mask; the glass was mostly clear, but there were a few nicks and chips in it that kept drawing his gaze, crossing his eyes painfully in an attempt to study them.

Although this session had been his own idea, he almost just wanted to crawl back to their room so he could take the damn thing off again. It stunk in here and he could feel sweat building up where the leather rubbed against his skin. How Roadhog had worn it all day, every day, while tromping around the oven of the Outback, was way beyond him. He could barely manage his own prosthetic limbs sometimes, when they rubbed his skin raw. 

Turning the hook over in his hands again, Jamie watched the way it caught the light. Its point was wickedly sharp, the edge polished to a shine and honed against a whetstone Hog kept for exactly that purpose. He’d watched his partner pass many nights on watch, grinding out scratches and re-sharpening the edges of the point. The nails were twisted and covered in rust, the only things on the weapon not meticulously well-maintained. 

“Ya sure I can throw it, mate?” He asked, internally wincing as his voice rung in his ears. The mask trapped sound and threw it back in his face, turning the booming base from something soothing into a roar he could barely hear over. 

No wonder Hog never answered him while he was driving the bike- probably couldn’t even hear him chattering away in the sidecar over his own breathing. 

“You’re the one that wanted to.” Hog mumbled in annoyance, leaning against the wall to watch as Rat studied the weapon. Junkrat tittered with laughter, an anxious sound. 

Roadhog wouldn’t let him do anything to hurt himself. It’d be fine. 

Turning to the training range, he studied the bots that Athena had gotten up and working for him. They moved in jerky motions, clearly a little damaged- now that he was really looking, he could see a few arrows sprouting from the metal bodies. Seemed the archer had been up early for a little practice and forgotten to remove his weapons from the bots.

That was a bit unusual.

But if Rat stared down that path of thinking again, he’d be trapped in another endless loop. He switched the hook to his right hand, and felt the solid weight of the handle press against his palm. The chain jingled as he moved the weapon around, a familiar sound. The winch Hog had attached to his belt was only good for storing chain- if he was going to pull something towards him, it would have to be with his own strength. Which he had now, Rat reminded himself with a shaky breath.

There was something to be said for muscle memory, once he cocked his arm back and launched the chain as hard as he could. He could tell at once it was something the muscles of his new arm had done a thousand times before- an alien familiarity of the snap of the chain, and the feel of it whistling out of his palm. For a second, he watched it soar across the training range towards the bots at the end, and he wondered if he’d actually manage to snag one on his first try. Sure, the throw didn’t look anything like the way Roadie usually did it, but he had to put his own flare on it, didn’t he? 

There was a high-pitched laugh when the hook clattered to the floor, twenty feet short of the bot he’d thrown it at. Junkrat turned to watch Roadhog laughing at him, prosthetic hand clasped over his mouth and eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck off!” He said reflexively, beginning the process of pulling the hook back with his ears red. “S’my first time!”

“Seen me throw it.” Hog said through his laughter, pushing off from the wall to come and stand next to Rat. When the hook scraped its way across the floor and back to them, Hog grabbed it instead, hefting it in much smaller hands than he was used to. He probably wouldn’t be able to give a full demonstration- Junkrat had about all the strength one needed to hold the hook. Roadhog had it made for himself, back when he was younger- it almost took both of Junkrat’s hands just to fit around the handle.

Jamie threw an elbow at his companion in annoyance, forgetting momentarily which body he occupied. Hog stumbled a few feet away from him at the blow, knocked off balance, and ceased his snickering to glare intently at the now-larger man. It was Rat’s turn to giggle, but he held up his hands in apology anyway, gesturing for Hog to continue what he had been doing and show him the correct way to throw his hook.

This time, careful attention was paid to the way his wrist snapped when sending it out, a sharp motion that kept the weapon straight and on target once it left his hand. It once again clattered to the floor short, lacking the power to get very far, but the trajectory it had taken looked cleaner than when Junkrat had thrown it. The bigger man reeled it in once again and nodded to Hog when he stepped away, turning back to the bots to concentrate. 

This time, it left his hand in a much neater arc, the snapping of his wrist not quite perfect but definitely more present than it had been on his earlier tries. The hook collided head on with one of the bots at the end of the range, and with a loud, screeching it ground to a halt in it’s tracks. Rather than hook it back towards Junkrat, it had only smashed a hole in the thing’s chest, but the shower of sparks and smoke that now spilled out of the bot were enough to make the throw a success. Rat punched the air with one huge fist and spun around to Roadhog with a huge, face-splitting grin underneath the mask. He ignored the way the expression pulled at a few of the scars on his scars, shoving up the gas mask with one hand so the other could see his expression.

“Didja see that Roadie? Pow! Right to the fuckin’ chest! Ain’t no bot gonna get up from that!”

Excited, he bounced on his feet and began hauling the hook back to himself to try again. Hog allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his face for a moment, watching how happy the other was. Just a few moments before, he’d been all nerves about something or other- it was hard to tell what exactly was bothering him. But now he was all smiles, gathering up the hook in his hands to try again. Again, the oddness of the expression on his own face struck him, but he shoved down the feeling.  
They passed most of the early morning hours in the practice range that way, with Rat steadily working his way through better and better throws. The first time he managed to get his hook caught in the back of one of the robots, he swung around to pick up Hog and hug him to his chest, crowing about his success.

“Maybe one of these days, I’ll get a hook ‘a me own! We’ll match!”

It wasn’t a bad way to pass the morning, given their unusual circumstances. 

Jamie tired of throwing the hook eventually, just he like he tired of most things. When there was no longer any joy in the twisting of his arm, and when he got sick of trying and failing to drag one of the bots closer to himself, he turned to Mako with a slight pout and holstered the hook on his belt. The other man had left him to his practice a while ago, and was punching at one of the bags that hung from the ceiling in the corner. Rat walked over to watch as his partner moved around the bag, probably trying to learn the balance of his new body and how he was supposed to move on the peg leg. Red in the face from the exercise, Hog ducked and weaved, dodging imaginary blows from the punching bag and retaliating with his own. 

A terrible idea crept its way into Junkrat’s mind.

Hunching in on himself, the bigger man moved slowly towards the punching bag as stealthily as he could. Luckily for him, the sound of his boots on the ground didn’t seem to break his partner’s concentration, hell-bent as he was on punishing the punching bag for some imagined slight. Jamie crept closer and closer to Mako, one hand pressed against the chain on his belt so it wouldn’t jingle and give his position away. 

“Roadie!” He shouted, and reached out to grab the other’s shoulder. He was already snickering as he did so, imagining how high his bodyguard would jump. Chances to surprise the guy were few and far between- had to take what he could get, after all.

What he was not prepared for was his partner to turn immediately and slug him across the face as hard as he could. Jamie gave a cry of surprise and stumbled back, a hand flying up to cup his impact site. He’d left the gas mask off while he practiced with the hook, secure that no one would be entering the place this early in the morning. There was blood in his mouth and eventually he just sat down hard on his ass, dazed and staring up at Roadhog above him. Seeing his own body, sweaty and red, fists raised in defense, twisted his gut in an unpleasant way. Made him feel like he should be afraid, be running, ready for anything to happen. Even though he was the big bad bodyguard now, fight or flight wanted to kick in. 

Then Hog relaxed and lowered his hands, a massive scowl overtaking his features.

“Sonuvabitch.” He hissed and knelt in front of Jamie, reaching out to inspect the raised bruise already forming on his cheek. Rat turned and snapped at the fingers with his teeth.

“Fuck off, ya punched me!”

“Snuck up on me.”

Fuming, Rat crawled away from Mako on all fours so he couldn’t reach out again, putting the punching bag in between them. Swirling the mouthful of blood around, he turned his head to spit out a glob onto the floor, tongue gingerly poking at the new cut on his lip.

“You punched me!”

“Technically punched myself.” A laugh in Hog’s voice. 

He tried to reach around the punching bag and drag Rat back, but the bigger man lashed out and smacked in instead, sending it swinging into Roadhog’s arm. 

“You surprised me.”

There was no answer from the other side of the bag, Junkrat too busy poking his cheek experimentally. Didn’t feel like anything was broken- he could still open and close his mouth. If Roadie hadn’t punched him with his metal hand, it probably wouldn’t have even cut his lip open. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to sulk about it for the rest of the day. Yes, it had been his own fault, but damnit if his face wasn’t going to rub up against the inside of the mask every time he talked and remind him. 

“C’mon Rat, m’sorry.”

“Eat shit.”

A loud sigh. Giving up his dignity for the moment, Roadhog crawled around the side of the bag, determining that if Junkart wasn’t going to come to him, he’d have to go to Junkrat. The other gave a small yelp at the sight of him and quickly began to scoot away on his hands and knees. 

“Go away!”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Jamie picked up his pace, turning to blow a raspberry at Mako over his shoulder. The blonde grunted and relented when he realized how determined Rat was to keep space between them, sitting back on his knees with a huff. Now that he wasn’t working himself to the point of exhaustion, he could feel the slight tremor in his arms and legs that signaled a good workout. Jamie must have been in worse shape than he’d thought if a few minutes of slapping a punching bag around could make him out of breath. 

When he noticed he was no longer being pursued, Rat sat back on his haunches again, staring intently at Hog with pursed lips. The motion encouraged it to bleed freely, but the younger man didn’t seem as though he’d noticed, studying the other’s face with a thoughtful expression. Roadhog didn’t like the silence and opened his mouth to apologize once again when he was cut off by a bright, enthusiastic voice.

“Lemme punch ya!” Jamie suggested, leaning forward towards his partner. The smaller man gave him an incredulous look and shook his head ‘no’ immediately, crossing his arms over his chest.

“C’mon mate, gotta make it even! Promise I’ll go easy on ya!” He giggled at the idea of having to go easy on Roadhog, but the truth of the matter was that if he didn’t, he’d probably knock the guy unconscious. Lotta strength stored up in those huge arms- he’d felt it first hand last night, ripping Symmetra’s door off its hinges so he could close it again.

“This is your face. You’re punching yourself.”

“Nah, it’s you in there! You’ll feel the revenge.”

Hog rolled his eyes, but knew from experience there was no way to talk Jamie out of something once he’d made up his mind. Heaving a huge sigh, he rubbed a hand over his eyes before beckoning Rat over, sitting back on his ass so he wouldn’t be knocked off balance by the blow. Whereas a few seconds ago he’d been mopey and indignant, Jamie was absolutely bouncing at the prospect of getting a shot back. He scooted towards Hog with enthusiasm, huge shape towering over the other man even on his knees. Mako set his jaw together as one huge fist pulled back.

That was how Tracer found them, blinking into existence in the middle of the room just as the blow connected to the side of Hog’s face. She gasped as the smaller man went sideways, hand flying to the place he’d been hit with a soft grunt. Rat beamed triumphantly at him before he turned to look at Tracer, gracing her with a smile that spoke of happiness beyond words. The girl alternated between staring at Mako picking himself off the floor, and the sight of an unmasked face she’d never seen before.

Ta Moko swirled over cheekbones and around old scars, turning his face into a smooth patchwork of lines and marks. A large, flat nose rested above thick lips, and brown eyes that seemed too wide and bright for the demeanor she’d come to associate with the large man. But that fit- it was Rat in there now, who giggled at her enthusiastically. 

Roadhog collected himself from the floor after a moment, working his jaw back and forth before sending a glare Rat’s way. In the next second, after he registered Tracer’s presence, he lunged for his partner and forcibly tugged the gas mask down over his face. Jamie sputtered at the motion, blinking as black descended over his vision. It took a few moments of wrestling to reposition the mask so that he could see out of the eyepieces. 

Guilt pooled in his stomach. Mako didn’t show his face to anyone but Junkrat, and he’d fucked that up his first day in the big lug’s body. It was Tracer that had seen and knowing her, a nice description of the tattoos and scars would be all over the base by mid-afternoon. Junkrat had never met anyone else whocould talk like he did, and while normally he respected the trait in the girl, he wished he could sew her lips shut for Hog. A shitty apology, but an apology nonetheless.  
Instead of commenting on what she’d seen, the brunette clapped her hands together, seemingly trying to clear away the awkward silence that had settled over the room. 

“Found you guys! Winston sent me to get you, he and Symmetra wanna talk something over with you!” There was a forced cheeriness in her voice that Rat heard loud and clear. He giggled nervously, suddenly reminded of the less than humorous aspects of their current predicament. The scientists had set up in the medical bay, unsure of what equipment they’d need, and going to see them meant stepping back into the blonde doctor’s lair. The idea made him shudder a little.

“They find something?” Roadhog huffed and climbed to his feet, ignoring the way the left side of his face was swelling. Rat followed suit, trying and failing to subtly tuck himself behind the smaller man. It was instinct, to use Hog as a shield between him and whatever unpleasant thing they had to do. Apparently, no matter what size or shape the guy was, Jamie would always feel safer around him.

“Dunno love, I’m just the messanger!” She said with a smile and gave the pair of them a friendly wave now that her message had been delivered. Turning, the girl zipped out of the room in a blue blur of light, leaving the junkers to compose themselves and make their way to the medbay.

Before she’d been gone even half a second, though, she returned and pressed a fingers to her lips in a silent promise. Rat smiled shakily at the gesture, before forgetting that she couldn’t see it, and settled for a wave of the hand instead. Hog grunted at her and nodded, unhappy with the situation even with her promise of silence. 

They left the training room in much the same way as they had found it, with a few bots sparking on the floor and a punching bag that still swung faintly, battered around by invisible fists. 

In the hallway, Jamie apologized once, and then again. The nervousness inspired by their destination, coupled with guilt, turned him into a chaotic storm of energy that whirled ahead and dropped back in equal measure. His steps were much longer than Hog’s- he hadn’t realized the big guy had to walk a slower pace than felt natural, to let him keep up with his strides. The knowledge burned in his brain now.

“Sorry, sorry, m’so sorry Hoggie, really. I forgot I had it up and that I was you now, and I just wasn’t thinking. I’ll make it up ta ya, find ya some nice new clothes or, or… Set up a fireworks show on the roof for ya! I’ll clear it with the grumpy soldier 69 first so ya won’t have to worry ‘bout a thing, make it real special for ya. Get ahold of some stuff to make ‘em that pretty pink color ya liked.”

The longer Rat babbled, the faster it got, as if he could fill in the imaginary rift between them with nothing but his words and promises. Hog grunted once, softly, and then louder when the noise didn’t snap his partner out of planning for his fireworks show. His flesh hand rose to press on the other’s bicep and Jamie started at the touch, quieting immediately in favor of stealing a sideways glance at Mako. They stood outside the medbay door together, and the smaller man gestured for Junkrat to lean in, wary of the distance between them. Quickly, Hog raised on his toes to press his forehead to the top of the mask, just a slight bump.

Rat couldn’t help but stare as the other strode forward through the double doors, before practically falling over himself to follow. Go figure- that he’d be eager to get into the medbay.

Mercy, Winston, and Symmetra were waiting for them, gathered around a teleportation pad. Wires and electrodes led in and out of the inner workings of the machine, accompanied by a faint humming noise that rose and fell every few seconds. The monkey was frowning deeply, intently studying the device in front of him, but the ladies in the room turned to greet the new arrivals. Mercy’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline at the sight of the swelling on the side of Hog’s face, but when neither of the Junkers mentioned it, she seemed to let it pass.

More important things to worry about.

“Figure something out?” Junkrat lumbered over to join the group after a moment’s hesitation, the lure of the teleporter’s inner workings too much to bear. It wasn’t often he failed to get a machine working; maybe if he watched while Symmetra fiddled with it, he could figure out what he’d done wrong. He was still certain the solution to the problem was going to have to come from his own hands. The Overwatch folks were nice, but he didn’t trust any of them farther than he could throw them. Letting them fix such a disastrous problem, without any of his input, didn’t sit right.

Besides. He was a genius.

Kneeling beside Winston, he shoved the nose of the pig mask directly into the mechanics, as if being closer would help unlock their secrets. The other scientist looked startled for a moment before he began to talk in a low voice, presumably explaining the progress they’d made so far. Hog couldn’t really hear their voices from his position, a not-entirely-welcome rarity. Somehow, not hearing his partner’s babble at all hours of the day was more annoying than the words themselves. He missed the background noise.

Symmetra and Mercy walked to Roadhog, uneasily studying the uncharacteristically still form. 

“Breakthrough?” The man asked, keeping one eye on his boss as the other rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm deep into the electronics of the machine. 

“Perhaps,” the Indian woman answered, and he refocused on her, taking in the bags underneath her eyes. She was never seen with a hair out of place, and yet she stood disheveled in the medbay, minute oil stains peppering her clothes and coloring her usually pristine white prosthetic dark. Her shoes were thrown in the corner, lying among a pile of discarded parts.

“We have found a small short in the wiring, and a few stray gears that must have been knocked loose during a battle. But these alone shouldn’t be enough to create the… Unusual circumstances you find yourselves in. They would happen during any fight. We called you here to… Ask if Junkrat had any insight he could offer.”

Frustration laced her words. He could only imagine how much she hadn’t wanted to call them in, especially after a night spent working over electronics and oil instead of asleep in bed.

Hopefully she wouldn’t mind a broken door too much.

“Could just be faulty tech.” Mako grumbled, making no attempt to conceal the bitter tone in his voice. Technology seemed to constantly be the thorn in his side, the instigator of every single bad thing that happened to him. In his dreams, he recreated the days he’d spent on his solar farm, alone with his hysband and animals, spending his days working in the sun, far from other people and their problems. There certainly hadn’t been any fucking teleporting while he carried wood and fed the pigs.

“My teleporter is not faulty.” Symmetra snapped at him, in a voice several octaves above her normal tone. He blinked at her, unimpressed with the minute outburst. Mercy hovered her hand over the other woman’s shoulder, putting herself in between Satya and Mako. As if he was going to jump her. As if she’d have the balls to take a swing at him herself, instead of letting one of her little sentry turrets do it for her. 

“Sure. We just switched bodies because the moon’s in fuckin’ pisces.”

With a snort, Hog turned and marched away from the others in the room, settling himself on a chair at a desk in the corner. As long as Junkrat wanted to root around in the teleporter, he’d stay close, but that didn’t mean he had to interact with any of them. 

Attempts to fix things didn’t mean shit when you were the one that made things go wrong in the first place. He knew that fact first hand.

Rat looked up from his fist-full of teleporter parts to find Symmetra staring at him, red-faced and fuming. He laughed, uneasy, and lifted the hand to wave at her with oil-stained fingers.

“Control your pig of a bodyguard.” Symmetra hissed at him. Jamie blinked in surprise and shot a look over to Hog, leaning back in a chair with his hands crossed over his stomach and his eyes closed. 

“Hoggie don’t make much trouble, don’t mind him!” He lied, giggling quietly to himself. Winston cut off his explanation of the parts Rat was holding, in favor of looking between the two for a moment.

Eventually he let it drop, and Symmetra launched into an explanation of the teleporter’s functions at Junkrat’s prompting. Her voice was reluctant at first, but picked up speed as she talked about a subject she clearly was passionate about.

“The teleporter can only work in pairs. I could power up one in about half the time, but of course it wouldn’t work- you need somewhere to go, for a connection to be made.” 

Rat made a noise of agreement.

“Are you…” Symmetra stopped herself and stared at the junker for a moment. “Do you know what quantum entanglement is?”

“Oh, sure!” Jamie nodded enthusiastically. “Read about it in a physics book I nicked from a library once. Particles across space link and tie together, with no consideration towards how far apart they are. What happens to one happens to another! It’s super cool, I was wondering if I could use it somehow to set up a chain reaction of explosions, somehow tie a few bombs together and set one off and have the whole lot go up!”

Blinking at the sudden onslaught of information, Satya allowed a few moments of silence to proliferate before she continued speaking, perhaps pondering the idea of someone using such complex quantum mechanics to demolish buildings.

“Correct. My teleporter uses the same principles, but on a much smaller scale. Instead of entangling particles across space and time, we simply entangle the particles at the mouth of each teleporter. And as someone moves into the first device, they displace air particles with the space they take up. The particles move from inside the second as well, and the space must be filled with something- such as the person who is teleporting. It works in a neat exchange.”

“Somethin’ must have gone kablooey in the swap then. When me an’ Hog went through at tha’ same time, we musta fucked with the exchange somehow. We were goin’ different directions, maybe get caught up in tha’ swap a’ tha’ air particles.”

The more Junkrat talked, the stronger his accent got. While physics wasn’t really his area of expertise, there could be no denying that the kid loved to figure things out. It wasn’t often he got to talk to other people who understood everything he said- Hog could take apart a bike or a car faster than anyone else he’d ever met, but his knowledge on subatomic particles and chemistry wasn’t exactly up to snuff. And no matter how standoffish the girl got, or how much the talking monkey freaked him out, Jamie missed being able to talk to people at length about stuff like this. 

At least now, Symmetra was actually looking at him like he had something helpful to contribute, instead of just being an annoyance. About fucking time- he fancied himself one of the smartest people in the world, after all.

“That is the conclusion that Winston and I arrived at as well. Where we are stuck, is in figuring out what caused the reaction of switching your minds, and how to recreate it. It cannot have just been a fluke, as you’d be far more likely to be dead if it had just been a mistake. So there must be something we can do.”

As blunt as the pronouncement was, the junkers appreciated it.

“Look lovey, I really think sendin’ us back through will do the trick. I was fuckin’ around with one a’ yer pads back on me worktable and-“ Jamie made a strangling noise in the back of this throat and quickly backtracked when Symmetra and Winston looked at him oddly. “I meant, I was uh, thinkin’ ‘bout it, imaginin’ it, and hearin’ how yer things work makes me think I’m right. Aren’t we sorta… Entangled? Just badly. So, all we gotta do it untangle.”

Rat clapped his hands together and then pulled them apart easily, offering everyone assembled a large grin that got lost in the rubber of his mask. 

“I mean… Whatcha’ll been doin’? Just tryin’ ta find out a mechanical reason? Maybe it’s not mechanical, it’s a… particle issue. Thing. Yeah. Just send us back through, maybe the whole problem’ll work itself out. Bam, Hoggie and I are back where we belong and you can figure out a way to make it never happen again.”  
Mercy frowned and joined the small group assembled around the teleporter, abandoning her silent quest to get Mako to interact with the others. 

“That’s risky, Jamison. It could just as easily kill you both.”

“Ain’t that why you’re here, doc?” He asked, looking anywhere but at the pretty blonde doctor. He might rely on her to bail them out if the idea killed them, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

She pursed her lips, disapproval written in every line of her face. Winston and Symmetra, for their parts, looked like they were actually considering the idea. They exchanged glances before looking back at Rat, and then down at the machine they’d been working over for hours. Neither of them had come up with a better option to try. Sleep-deprivation could be better than alcohol, when you wanted to make people say “Fuck it” and give something dangerous a try.  
Winston was the one who finally moved, sitting back to rub at the bridge of his nose under his glasses. 

“I’m not sure it will actually work, but I don’t think we have anything better to do. At the very least, we’ll have the opportunity to gather some data that could help us pinpoint the problem.”

One person’s agreement was enough for the Rat. With a cheer, he climbed to his feet and began to look around the room, as if sizing up all the equipment. One door led to the exam room, another to the beds for extended stay patients, and the third to Mercy’s office. None of them had enough space to do this, in his judgement, so he shrugged and leaned down to heave one of the teleporter pads into his arms. As he bent, Hog’s back cracked loudly and painfully. Rat turned to shoot the other man a baleful glare, as if it was his fault.

“God yer old, pigface.”

Mako grunted and heaved himself up from the chair. He’d taken more heed of the warnings Symmetra and Mercy gave than Rat had- he always was the one who paid attention to what could go wrong. 

But he wouldn’t be in that room if he didn’t trust the little shit with his life. Wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t listened to him over his own judgment on more than one occasion. Junkrat usually knew what he was talking about when it came to mechanics of all sorts. Usually.

Rather than the awkward shaking from the night before, when Symmetra began to load up her teleporters, they shimmered into existence with the same grace as the woman herself. Setup on opposite sides of the room, Jamie swung his head back and forth between them, looking for all the world like he was watching a tennis match.

“Ya didn’t fix the short in that one, right? Still sorta broken and all?”

“Correct.” The Indian woman answered him as she knelt by one of the pads, fingers dancing over a set of small buttons there. Her free hand raked through her hair again and again in slow, repetitive motions.

“Good!” Rat cheered. He gestured for Hog to come closer and he did so after a moment, keeping one eye on the equipment Mercy was pulling out of her office, presumably in case they died. Her caduceus staff was rarely seen out of mission situations, but she leaned it on the wall, within easy grabbing reach.

A huge arm swooped around his waist and Roadhog found himself hoisted into the air. Rat eagerly pressed their foreheads together once again, trying to mimic the gentle moment they’d had in the hallway with far too much enthusiasm. Mako blinked as he was headbutted, stars erupting behind his eyes. 

“See ya on th’ other side, mate! If this works, ya owe me a beer.”

“Get ya the whole bar.” Hog muttered, wiggling until he was put back on his feet. At least if this worked, he wouldn’t have to deal with the headache currently forming behind his eyes- Rat had absolutely no control over his strength.

They each set up at one of the teleportation pads, Jamie bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to try the solution. He seemed so sure it was going to work, just on a hunch alone, that Roadhog was almost able to stifle his own misgivings about this entirely. 

This would work. This would be okay.

“Fire in the hole!”

They ran through.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like making the ending of this a little more sappy.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so forgive mistakes.

The cold somehow seeped through six layers of clothing, and that was the thing he hated most about it. Frostbite could still nip at his fingers even when they were encased in itchy, uncomfortable wool gloves, and socks did nothing to insulate his toes. 

It had even managed to get into the car, for fuck’s sake. The seat heater was doing nothing to warm the chill in his bones, and neither was buffing his hands up and down his arms. Hog had disappeared into the fast food place at least an hour ago, he was sure- time had crawled by so slowly that he thought he’d go insane. Twisted over his seat, Rat stared out the back window of the car, hanging upside down with his foot planted on the car seat for balance. It was the best angle to catch a glimpse of Hog from; vaguely he could make out his huge partner lurking around the counter, probably side-eyeing the employees as he waited for their food.

Now that they were part of Overwatch, they couldn’t wave weapons around to get everyone to move faster. It wasn’t how heroes did things. They didn’t intimidate civilians whenever they felt like it, or rob liquor stores when they wanted a fun night out, or even destroy anything but the fucking training bots they were provided. It was slowly starting to drive him insane.

He knew it was getting to Roadhog too. Had to be- he hadn’t exactly been one to surround himself with goody two-shoes before the Omnium blew and he certainly hadn’t had the chance to do so after. Overwatch meant a bed without fleas and steady meals, but those were both things they could acquire easily with the aforementioned forbidden behaviors. 

They’d only joined up for a laugh in the first place. A laugh and a break from running. And with the incident involving Symmetra’s teleporter and 15 hours spent in the wrong bodies, Rat had decided it was time for the duo to take their leave.

It was why he’d insisted on fast food for dinner, ignoring whatever they were serving up in the mess hall. It was why he’d bugged Roadhog into using one of the spare vehicles kept at the base instead of the motorcycle- he didn’t want to talk inside the restaurant, and like hell was he sitting out in the sidecar in this weather. 

Still had to talk to Hog and get him in on the plan. Figure out how they were going to sneak-off base with all their belongings. Sure, they could leave during a mission, but he didn’t want to leave his toolkits and other supplies, and he couldn’t carry it all into battle. They’d conveniently taken the truck with the check engine light that had been on for the last two years, or so he’d heard from someone on the base. If anyone questioned why it took them so long to get some food, he could just say the damn thing had broken down on them.

Rat could still feel the bruise from where he’d punched himself. (Technically, had Hog punched him? It was his body but Rat had swung the arm.) The wound on Hog’s face was much less red, the cut lip already crusted over with a purple scab. Jamie couldn’t help but feel like he’d gotten the short end of the stick in the whole ordeal, never mind the fact that it had been his fault in the first place.

Tapping his fingers against the back of the chair in rhythm, Rat studied the brilliantly lit front of the burger place. Hog was finally gathering a huge assortment of bags into his arms and turning for the door, balancing two huge drinks on a tray in one hand. He grinned at the sight, imagining ripping into the huge burger he’d ordered with delight. There was a growl of hunger from Jamie’s stomach as he imagined the juice flowing down his chin. His mind, however, seemed to reject the notion of eating, flooding the junker with nausea. 

That was normal. The dueling sensations of hunger and nausea were ones he was used to eating through, since his body seemed determined to both reject and accept everything he shoved in his mouth. Ever since he could remember, eating had been a chore- sure, shit tasted good to him, but when you had to choke it back while your brain tried to convince you that you were about to throw up, it got less enjoyable. Even the idea of eating inspired a strange mixture of unease and ravenous hunger.

When he was surrounded by food, it got harder to hide, but he thought he’d managed just fine. Rat only actually threw up rarely, and he could usually chalk it down to being unused to the heaviness and fattiness of the foods. He was pretty sure Hog bought it most of the time- he was a great actor, when he wanted to be.

When the car door opened, Jamie shimmied his way back over the seat with a grin and outstretched hands, eagerly waiting for Hog to hand over the food. His partner barely fit inside the truck they’d taken, and with all the extra food it was a bit of a tight squeeze. Not like it wasn’t always a tight squeeze with Roadhog around.

Grunting, Hog rooted around in his bag of food for a second before he came up with a wrapped burger and large container of French fries that steamed in the air. Rat snatched them and began to gobble up the fries immediately, ignoring the way their hot insides burned his mouth and tongue. If he ate fast enough, his stomach wouldn’t complain. Wouldn’t have the time to send signals to his brain that he was full, despite the fact he’d barely eaten, leaving him pushing shit around on his plate.

Radiation sickness was a bitch. 

Mako’s veggie wrap disappeared almost as fast at the fries did. They’d spent the entire day hiding in the base, purposefully making themselves difficult to find. Once Junkrat had stopped rubbing his success in everyone’s faces, Symmetra and Winston had both made for their rooms to get some sleep after a long night. They’d made their excuses to Mercy, and high-tailed it out of there before the door they’d broken could be discovered. They would have to go back eventually, sure, but best to put if off as long as possible. Neither of them fancied being yelled at.

The hours long game of hide and seek meant they hadn’t had a chance to get something to eat though. The kitchen was almost always occupied, and anyone they encountered there would definitely rat them out to the monkey or the pissy soldier.

Heh. Rat.

“Hey, Hoggie, when’s the last time ya ate meat?”

Huge shoulders shrugged and Mako slurped on his soda, medical mask pushed up halfway over his mouth to accommodate the straw. Standing at 7’4, with a medical mask over half his face and a pair of sunglasses to hide the rest, he wasn’t exactly the most inconspicuous figure, but they’d made at least a half-assed effort to hide their identities. 

“Why’d ya stop? I mean, sure, I can understand not eatin’ little piggy feet and shit, but what about the rest of it? Chicken and cow and stuff?”   
Behind the dark glass, Hog’s brown eyes swept towards him, blank. There was a moment of silence while he skewered Jamie with his gaze before he went back to his food with a snort.

“What do ya actually want to talk about?” He asked in a low rumble and Rat started, squinting at his partner.

“Why’dya think I wanna talk about something? Can’t a guy ask some questions?”

Another half formed glare was sent his way. Rat realized he’d been subconsciously leaning forward towards Mako, trying to ensure privacy for their conversation even though no one was around. His metal hand was still tapping out patterns on the armrest, restless and apprehensive.

No one ever said Junkrat was a closed book.

“Aw, fuck off.”

He could never hide anything from Hog. It made getting the guy a birthday present or any sort of surprise downright impossible. It was why he’d jumped at the chance to sneak up on him that morning.

“I was thinkin’ a lot while I was in yer body. Bein’ around other people with yer mask and shit is hard, I was getting’ tired of smellin’ my own breath about three minutes in.”

“S’why I brush my teeth.” 

Junkrat elbowed him, pulling a sour face.

“Oh, ya know what I mean. Do ya like being in Overwatch?”

“Hm.”

“I know, right? They’re so fuckin’ boring. I think 76 jammed a rifle up his own ass, just in case someone attacks while he’s taking a shower.”

Hog’s deep laughter filled the car and Rat grinned at the sound, tossing aside the empty wrapper of his burger. It joined a collection of wrappers and receipts collecting at on the truck’s floor, courtesy of Overwatch agents who couldn’t be bothered to pick up the remnants of their trips out into humanity. A good portion of the wads of paper were from this very restaurant, a favorite whenever someone needed a greasy burger and fries without Mercy’s watchful eyes judging every bite they took. Lucio and Hana were the ones who snuck out the most, but almost everyone had taken a late night trip.

“Symmetra fuckin’ hates our guts, so does that shitty scientist with the bot friend. Ain’t like any of them actually want us there. Ya heard the monkey when we joined up. They’re desperate.”

The sunglasses turned to watch him and Jamie sat up in his seat, feeling something in his chest knowing he had Roadhog’s full attention. He always felt like that when the older man looked at him- really looked at him, not past him at danger or through him in annoyance.

“Let’s leave. S’not that fun anymore, and no offense big guy, but I don’t want to end up in your filthy hide again. Stunk like roadkill in there.”

“Not like you’re a fucking breath of fresh air.”

The insult passed right over Jamie’s head as he waited for Roadhog to think it through. He could practically see the gears churning inside the older man’s head as he thought out a response. Swallowing his last bite of the veggie wrap, Mako let the wrapper fall to the floor, big fingers clenching around the empty air between them. 

The big lug should have answered already. Rat hadn’t thought it had been that hard of a question, but it felt like time was stretching in the silence, taking eons longer than it should have. His heartbeat skipped and then returned, thudding loudly in his chest, faster and faster. 

Did Hog not want to go? Jamie had thought he’d seen the signs of his partner getting just as restless as he was, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Roadhog liked the stability that Overwatch offered. Liked knowing where he was going to lie his head every night. Jamie had always been the one with the plans after all, always been the one who’d wanted to move on after a few hours spent in a new town. Hog had always just gone along, not complaining- but maybe he didn’t want to anymore. Maybe he wanted to stay. Maybe he was going to tell Rat that this was the splitting of their partnership. That obviously, he didn’t need a bodyguard anymore, given the fact they were out of the Outback. 

Jamie felt like he couldn’t breathe, even as he started babbling again, not letting Mako get a word in edgewise. 

“If ya don’t wanna move on, I could stay a little longer, I guess. Food’s good enough n’ all and its nice to have a stocked up garage to raid when I need new parts. Or if ya like having a steady place, we can have one of our own? Get a home base somewhere that’s not crawling with do-gooders, place to stick all of our loot in between jobs. I just thought you might be sick of Overwatch, but if not that’s totally fine. I can stay for ya, anything ta make sure me best bodyguard’s happy on the job, eh?”

Hog was still staring at him, one large eyebrow raised above the sunglasses. Jamie tittered nervously and pressed on, the word vomit coming faster and faster. If he kept talking, then Mako couldn’t.

“Yer happy on the job right? Cause I know things are different and now its just the police coming for my hide ‘stead of murderous scavengers and all, but I still need ya and like having ya around. Jailbreaks are harder to plan with only one person, yaknow? Plus, I’m shit at watchin’ my back in a fight, but I like to think I’m pretty good at looking out for yours. Kinda hard to miss, I mean, but we make a pretty good pair when everything goes to hell, right? I’d really miss ya if ya left, I guess is what I’m sayin’. But if ya want to, I won’t stop ya. Yer an independent kinda guy and I can respect that.”

Before he could continue, a huge palm slapped itself over the lower half of his face, fingers curling around his jaw and pressing his mouth closed. Jamie was semi-grateful for the interruption, but his heart kicked up in his chest at the contact, at wondering what it meant. Mako was still quiet as he inspected the little rat in the seat beside him, and he just knew this was it. This was where things ended. He didn’t have the brain power to think about why that bothered him so much. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Roadhog said at last, grip around Jamie’s mouth slipping so he could answer. Orange eyes bugged out at the question before anger and hurt rose in his chest.

“You leavin’! You’re gonna stay with Overwatch, right? Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’re gonna stick with them blokes over yer best mate! Let me walk away all by my lonesome for a soft pillow and a hot shower!.”

The hand returned to press against his mouth and to his horror, Mako was chuckling. The deep base of it reverberated in the tiny cab of the truck, much too small to contain the noise. Jamie narrowed his eyes at the sound, heat rising to his cheeks. Sharp teeth bit into the meat of the bigger junker’s palm and he winced but didn’t stop laughing, regaining control of himself only after Rat was sure he’d bitten a sizeable chunk out of the other’s hand.

“Stop jumping to conclusions. We stay together, or leave together. Not gonna let you wander off on your own.”

It was Jamie’s turn to be quiet and let his mind process the words.

“I vote we leave,” The pig grunted. “Getting too quiet.”

Hog wanted to come with him. The sudden storm that had kicked up in his mind whirled and thrashed, throwing thoughts around so fast that he struggled to comprehend them, let alone vocalize.

He’d just thought too fast, is all. He should have known- Roadhog liked to take his time with his thoughts, think through the decisions he made before he made them. Rat should have been used to that by now, but once his mind had landed on the idea of Hog leaving, it had been too much to process. 

Why was that?

It wasn’t fear. 

Well, okay, it was partially fear. With Roadie around, he was safe- they’d yet to meet anyone who rivaled the pig’s size and he doubted they ever would. The man with the armor, Reinhardt, he came close- but he had to wear thick plate metal to stand above Hog’s head. Without the enhancement, even he had to look up to stare the junker in the eyes. Rat also didn’t fancy going back to a life on the run, on his own. Sooner or later, the cops would figure out a way to break his peg and then he’d be shit out of luck, a sitting duck for the law to catch and chain up. They’d already done a brief stint in prison and he couldn’t fathom being there for an indefinite amount of time. He’d go fucking nuts.

But it was Roadhog. It was just the idea of having the big lug around- rolling over to poke him with his arm stump in the mornings, or hopping on his back when he was too tired to walk back to the bike. Looking over during a heist to see him covered in blood or absolutely dripping with precious jewels. The crown perched atop his mask had been a good look for him. Jamie liked hearing him laugh hard when he caught an unfortunate security guard with his hook, felt his knees go weak when those huge hands popped someone’s head from their body with minimal effort. Appreciated it beyond words when Mako rubbed at his stumps for him, chasing away phantom limb pains that arose during the middle of the night and threatened to overwhelm him. 

Heists were fun, causing chaos was fun. Blowing everything in sight up was really fun. But they were better with Hoggie there, to roll his eyes when Jamie did something stupid, to patch him up. Sometimes his partner would let him undo the ponytail he kept his hair tied in, let him work out the knots and tangles with a comb. He liked it when the big guy would let him explain his formulas for bombs to him. Most of the chemical stuff went right over his head, but he could offer suggestions for mechanisms and hardware. Help him when his fingers were too twitchy to want to hold a wrench or a screwdriver. Understood when he shouted and raged at nothing, was content to let him work himself down and didn’t get mad at him afterwards. 

The swirling mass of words and thoughts played out on his face as he sat there, and Roadhog was treated to frowns, smiles, and sneers before Rat looked him in the eyes again. He pulled his hand back, inspecting the bleeding cut with a slight frown. He was pretty sure he still had some band-aids in his pockets, and he was digging around in them when Junkrat spoke.

“Mate, I’m in love with you.” Rat blurted out.

The words slipped out without permission. Rather than dwell on them, he opted instead to continue talking as if he’d never been interrupted, the stream of thoughts now pouring out of his mouth.

“I get nervous when you’re in danger, even though you’re size of a god damned house, I don’t want you to be away and its not just cause I’m scared… I mean, I think you’re so fucking handsome my brain goes a little funny when you lift your mask up even a little, and you touch me and I get all full of butterflies?” He squinted at Mako, as though the answer would be written on the other man’s face. 

“I fuckin’ love the way ya laugh when yer covered in blood and I been wanting to jump yer bones from day one. Took all my self-control not to vanish into the bathroom at some point while I was still in yer body, just for a quick jerk session. I trust ya with my life on a daily basis and yer so smart about things I’m not? Ya don’t mind that ya have to remind me about shit all the time and help when I ain’t feeling too good.”

Roadhog’s thought process seemed to have stalled in its tracks, eyes huge behind the lenses of his sunglasses as Rat babbled on. There was a gradual pink color that crept its way up his neck and to his cheeks, coloring the skin that could be seen with a blush so deep it was almost purple.

“God, I been wondering about why I’ve been feeling so weird around you! No fuckin’ wonder!” Junkrat crowed, smacking at the dashboard with his mechanical hand. From the excitement in his voice, you’d have thought he’d just unlocked the mysteries of the universe. 

The revelation was enough to actually calm his mind, for the moment. The storm abated, seemingly having stirred up enough thoughts to content it. He felt the turmoil slink away, felt more in control of himself. A trademark grin spread across his face; Hog had agreed to leave Overwatch with him, and he’d finally put his finger on the weirdness he’d been feeling for some time. The world had finally righted itself- now they just had to work out how they were going to make an escape from the base with all their shit, and plan where they’d go next.

No wonder he’d been confused about his feelings all this time. He didn’t exactly have much experience with love- Junkers didn’t spend much time together in quiet conversation. It wasn’t like he was much of a looker either. The only feeling like it he had any experience with was parental love, and even that only came from watching other people with their kids, protective over the few small lives that had managed to start out in the wilderness.

But love was supposed to be warm, right? It was supposed to pop up in your chest whenever you looked at your partner, feel like birds flapping around in your stomach when they talked. There might as well have been a bomb going off behind his eyes whenever Hog laughed at something he said or looked at him. Mako liked to read trashy romance novels, things with huge muscular men on the covers and swooning women in their arms. Rat had stolen one once, while the other was asleep, just to see what all the fuss was about.

He hadn’t learned much beyond the supposed implications of a large shirtless man staring at you. (That seemed to be all that was needed to create sexual tension between the characters- just take your shirt off and bam! You’re automatically irresistible to everyone and anything.) Jamie was shirtless all the time, so was Roadie. And while he certainly wouldn’t refuse the offer to ride that Hog if it ever came up, somehow overwhelming lust had not distracted him from a search for clean water and some food.

But there were a few descriptions of love, cheesy and overplayed as the most important feeling in the character’s life. The junker couldn’t understand that- now that the feeling had a name, it didn’t terrify him so much as excite him. It felt like a rite of passage somehow. All the old people in Junkertown had stories about the first person they’d ever loved. Now he could add in with stories of his own, if he ever got the chance to. Tell them about the biggest fucker to ever live and his pig tattoo.

Hog was still staring at him. Rat shook himself back into reality like a wet dog, surfacing from the sea of thoughts to watch his partner expectantly.

“Isn’t that great? Finally figured out what’s going on, been bothering me forever! So, ya said you were onboard with leavin’, right? Cause we’re gonna have to sneak all of our shit out before we book it for good.”

No answer. He cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out which part of his sentence was tripping Roadhog up. The skinny junker would have expected to get at least a growl of agreement or something.

“Like, all our weapons and shit? I love my rip tires as much as me own leg, but I ain’t hauling all three out on my back at once. Gotta sneak ‘em out, yaknow? That way we can get a headstart on the Overwatch blokes, be halfway across the country before they realize we’re not just sulking in our rooms like usual.”

His fingers twitched as the silence from his partner continued, looking around for something to fiddle with. Rat hadn’t brought any bits of metal or wires so he settled for grabbing the paper bag their food had come in, shredding it into tiny bits as he waited for Roadhog to say something. 

Jamie had the craziest notion to eat some of the flakes while he waited, but he was saved from nervously stuffing his mouth with paper by a deep rumble.

“You can’t just say that, Junkrat.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re… In love with someone. You can’t just tell them that and move on.”

“What?”

Bits of brown paper fluttered onto the carseat around him like snowflakes as his fingers worked faster, making motions that would have twisted and bent wires but only mutilated the poor bag.

“It’s a serious thing. You don’t just say that.”

“Why not? S’true. Yer the best guy I ever met, what’s not to love?”

With interest, he noticed a creeping red coloring Roadhog’s ears. It was difficult to see the color on his face, what with the sunglasses and medical mask blocking most of it, but his ears told the story loud and clear.

“Aw Hoggy, did I embarrass you?” Jamie cooed, abandoning his bag in favor of wiggling closer to his bodyguard. 

“No.”

A blatant lie if he’d ever heard one. Cackling, he reached out to poke at one bright red ear, grinning as he watched Roadhog flinch away from his hand. Before Rat could comment again, the older junker spoke, low voice still somehow filing the cab of the truck. The sound lit a warm feeling in his stomach.

“Usually people plan. And let the other respond.”

“Respond? Why ya gotta respond? We’re in love, I know that! Would be nice to hear ya say it, but I don’t need that.”

“What? No. That’s… That’s not how this works.”

It was Junkrat’s turn to gape, bravado shrinking in the face of a Roadhog who was getting steadily more obstinate.

“Well how’s it work then? Yer acting like I’m being stupid!”

“You are!”

His robotic hand smacked across Hog’s arm and he was treated to a grip that would have been tight enough to bruise if it had been flesh and blood. Hog leaned in real close and Rat swallowed, unsure what he’d done to make his partner this mad at him. There was frustration coming off Hog in waves, frustration that he’d only ever sensed when they first left the Outback. Back when he’d had to ask questions about everything around them, unused to modern amenities. 

Jamie licked his lips.

“What… What am I not getting?” He asked in a smaller voice, and Mako released his grip after a moment, turning away to rub at the bridge of his nose. 

“…Just because you say you’re in love with someone, doesn’t mean they’re automatically in love with you too.”

“What? That’s how it always worked in stories and shit! Say them three words and mean it, and bang!”

“No.”

There was a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Rat had thought he’d been getting the hang of how everything worked, had been relieved when he could finally put a name to the feeling inside of him… But it was sounding more and more like he’d fucked up. Badly.

Hog saw the confusion on his partner’s face turn to horror and sighed, willing all of his tension and frustration to leave with the breath. It was so easy to forget that Rat was a kid who didn’t know how a lot of things worked. He usually picked things up so quickly that Mako only had to do a cursory explanation- the rest he could get from watching and learning. But he’d never had the opportunity to do so with couples; the only things he knew were stories from drunk Junkers, bragging about their first conquests while slouched over a bar.

He hadn’t meant it. Hadn’t known what he was saying. Focusing on that thought, he tried to sort through his words in his head. The alternative- that Rat had meant it- was far too much to think about for the moment.

“Its not always mutual. And it’s very… Important, when you say it and mean it in a romantic way. You have to be careful when you say those words to someone for the first time.”

“Oh.”

An oppressive silence stifled the cab of the truck for a moment, as Rat seemed to wrestle with Hog’s words. For once, instead of his usual word vomit, he was quiet, mouth opening and closing over and over as he tried to say something and thought better of it.

Finally he spoke.

“So… ya don’t love me?”

Hog smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. Of course that would be the one thing Rat pulled out of this fucking mess. Of course that would be what he focused on.

“Ya said s’not always mutual, right? So ya don’t love me?” It was less than a question and more of an observation, whispered to himself in Rat’s usual whisper- that is, a normal person’s speaking voice.

The taste of blood filled Jamie’s mouth as his sharp teeth bit into his tongue, caught halfway between closing his mouth and saying more. The wound bled sluggishly, filling his senses with the metallic tang. The blonde swallowed hard and felt the blood travel down his throat, hot and bitter.

“Didn’t know that was how that shit worked. Sorry mate, didn’t mean to put ya, uh… On the spot and shit.”

It felt like he’d just gotten the wind knocked out of him, for some reason that he couldn’t explain. Hog was watching him over the rim of his sunglasses, big brown eyes studying every emotion that flashed across Rat’s face.

“Got ahead of meself, right? Never had anyone to tell ‘afore.”

Roadhog swallowed hard, before tentatively extending his hand to the other Junker. He rested it atop crispy blonde locks, awkwardly tousling Rat’s hair for want of anything else to say or do. Hog had never been good at feelings, whether his own or other people’s, and being caught off-guard had left him floundering. It wasn’t like he hated Rat.

Far from it. If he hated him, he’d have snapped Junkrat’s skinny neck the first week they were together, treasure be damned. It was nice to have company. A voice chattering in his ear. Even when he got sick of hearing the exciting giggling, it kept him from getting too lost in his thoughts. Mako was loyal, when he found something worth his time, and Jamie definitely qualified. He’d thought they’d remain the same way they always were for the next few years, until the radiation got to be too much for Rat. He’d bury the kid and continue living the way he’d been living for years. On his own, in the quiet. 

It had taken a year or two before he’d even allowed himself to consider the fact that he would miss Junkrat when the kid bit the dust. This was a confession of a whole different kind. Part of him wanted to distract Jamie. He was reasonably confident in his ability to do so- it wasn’t that hard to find a topic of conversation that would get his partner off and running for hours on whatever topic struck his fancy. Mako could go back in the fast food place for some more fries and they’d pass the evening in the truck, watching the snowfall outside the windshield. Avoiding Overwatch headquarters as long as humanly possible before someone called them back for a screaming session.

But Rat was quiet now, gaze focused on the specks of dirt and dried blood that dotted the vehicle’s dashboard. And that… Bothered him.   
It was the same sort of feeling he got when he imagined life in a few years, when Rat was gone. Mako wasn’t a stranger to love- he’d had a husband before the explosion, a life he shared with someone else. But it had been so fucking long, and he’d have thought he’d have been able to recognize it if it ever happened again. 

All he felt right now was confusion. He’d gone for so long without many emotions.

Huge hands grabbed at Rat’s middle and the skinny junker gave an undignified squawk as he was lifted and dragged over the center console. It was a tight squeeze in the driver’s seat, what with Hog’s belly taking up most of the space, and Rat had to curl up rather uncomfortably to fit in Mako’s lap. Roadhog waited for him to settle, watching as he squirmed and shifted, throwing boney elbows out every which way as he maneuvered into a comfortable position. Finally he was settled, head cocked back and leaning against the armrest so he could stare up at Hog.

“What the fuck?”

“Looked cold.” Mako grunted, not entirely lying through his teeth as he settled back into his seat again with the warmth and weight of Rat on his legs. The other snorted but didn’t complain- there was no point in denying that he was absolutely freezing, despite the three jackets, multiple layers of pants, and scarf that he’d worn to leave the base. In Junkrat’s own words, snow was ‘bullshit’ and Hog was inclined to agree.

“Rat,” Roadhog started, and then stopped, catching a glimpse of those amber eyes staring up at him like he’d hung the moon. 

One palm settled over Jamie’s face and he shifted in surprise, trying to shake it off.

“Stop looking at me.” The older junker mumbled, feeling sharp teeth unhook themselves from where they’d been biting into his flesh.

“Too bashful? Ya turning the color of an apple under yer mask? Aw, that’s so cute!”

He pressed down more forcefully, as if attempting to shove the words back into the other junker’s mouth. Rat giggled but quieted down agreeably for once, hands coming up to rest upon the palm on his face.

Hog sighed deeply and tried to begin again, looking for a starting point.

There didn’t seem to be one.

For once, he could understand the word vomit Junkrat seemed to favor most of the time. He wouldn’t consider using it himself but he could understand it. Trying to tease out any particular place to start was like untangling the waves from each other- once their white foam mingled as they broke on the shore, there was no possible way to unmake the lace patterns.

Eventually he started in the middle, taking a long drag on his soda before he spoke.

“Husband died in the blast. Was a real good man, better than me. Been together for years before it happened. We had planned on more.” Mako stopped to lick his lips, suddenly feeling parched. He went for a sip of his drink again, trying to ignore the concentration he could feel radiating from Jamie.

“I’m not the same person I was back then. Obviously.”

“Bet you were a tough motherfucker even then!” Rat chimed in, and he had to laugh slightly at the pride in the younger man’s voice.

“Sure was.” He found a note of that pride in his own words.

“But uh, that whole thing? That was a really long time ago. And I ain’t just saying that because I’m old.” A noise of protest from his lap but he plowed on, afraid to stop again in case he couldn’t pick back up.

“I don’t even know if I can go back there. To being… like that. With someone. You were just a kid when the place blew Rat, but I remember it clear as day. Had over twenty years to move on from him, starting to think I won’t. Can’t. Whatever.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Jamie. Like you too much for that. Anything else? I don’t know. Dunno myself very well, can’t tell if I’m even fucking… Capable of that anymore or not.”

Hog had never read anything about PTSD- didn’t want to know anything more about it than what he already did. The nightmares, the hallucinations… He took them as they came. Penance for not being there, or just his own way of torturing himself in his middle age; it was hard to tell the difference. But he wasn’t Mako anymore, even if the name still felt familiar. 

“That’s the best I can do, okay?”

It was a lot of words in a short amount of time for him, and he swallowed uncomfortably, lifting his hand from his partner’s face. Amber eyes blinked at the return of light and then refocused on Roadhog’s face, medical mask pushed down under his chin so he could drink. Rat seemed to be weighing his words carefully for once, something that unsettled the older man’s stomach. He looked away first, losing a staring match for the first time in memory.

“’Course it’s okay. Sorry I uh… Stirred that shit up for ya, heh… Didn’t know ya had a secret lover and all.” His laugh was weak. “I ain’t the best at, uh… Feelings shit either, yaknow? But I’m happy yer here, ya big cunt. For what it’s worth and stuff.”

Silence reigned within the truck for a long moment. It stretched into two, and then three, as both junkers thought about the conversation they’d just had. Well, less than a conversation, and more of concurrent monologues. Hog watched the snow come down, tried and failed to count the number of snowflakes he could see through the window. It was really starting to pick up- they’d have to go back to base soon if kept snowing like this. Neither of them were the best at driving in the snow. He was avoiding acknowledging any of the past fifteen minutes, in his own mind or out loud. If he acknowledged it, it had been real. 

Eventually Rat couldn’t stand it anymore, and he twisted and turned in Hog’s lap so he could wiggle his way back into the passenger seat. One thing Jamie could always be counted on to break first was the silence.

“Now that we got all that squared away,” The younger junker stated confidently, as if they’d settled everything that there could possibly exist between them. “We should plan our Overwatch exit strategy. I was thinking something stealth, ‘course, cause we’re aces at being sneaky.”

Hog snorted and Jamie grinned like he’d won the lottery.

“We’re gonna have ta be least a little stealthy to do it though, I think. Like, ten percent. Cause we got all our stuff to get out and if those cunts see us movin’ it, they’ll know somethin’s up.”

“Who cares?”

“Well, if we just take off they’ll come after us! Do you want ta deal with Ice Girl and the monkey and all of them? Th’gorilla’s got a jetpack for fuck’s sake. Twenty versus two ain’t exactly fair, mate.”

“Fought worse odds.”

Rat huffed a breath of air through his nose, exasperated.

“Yeah but those were cops, not bloody Overwatch! Do you really wanna toss yer hook through Frog Boy?”

Mako let the questions hang in the air before he swung his head around, once again looking at Jamie. A small smile graced his lips.

“Why do you care? You in love with him too?”

A prosthetic hand flew through the air and whacked Roadhog’s arm as Rat sputtered in indignation, eyes wide and panicked. Deep laughter rocked the truck as the younger junker’s face turned bright red, Hog bent over with a hand over his mouth.

God, but he was going to have fun with that.

“Fuck off, ya cunt. I’m serious.”

“So was I.” 

Jamie half-heartedly whacked him again, leaning back against the glass of the window with a petulant expression across his features. He pulled away with a yelp when he realized how cold the glass was and settled for slinging his feet up onto the dashboard, boot leaving traces of slush in it’s wake. Mako was surprised the entire truck wasn’t covered in the stuff by now.

“We could jus’ keep doin’ this. Takin’ the truck off at dinner times to get some fast food. Sneakily stick some of our crap in the bed each time. It’d only take like, two trips, we don’t got all that much. Stash it somewhere abandoned. Then leave in the truck one day and never come back. Let ‘em find it in the parking lot with a picture of yer ass in the driver’s seat.”

A grunt was all he got from his companion, but it seemed to be an affirmative enough grunt.

“A real high definition shot, so they can see all the nooks and crannies. Don’t shower for a week ‘fore we take it, either.”

It was Mako’s turn to reach over and lightly swat at Rat’s arm. He giggled and shimmied theatrically out of the way, sliding over the worn material of the seat with ease. Junkrat reached out to ball up the bag of fast food, shoving the various wrappers and containers into it before he tossed it on the floor to join it’s brethren. 

“Tell ya what mate, I will miss the bed. S’a real nice mattress. Don’t reckon we could take it with us?”

Silence.

“Yeah, yeah, too big. Just keep on crushing all my dreams, ya old fart. Was also nice ta have a functioning workshop to steal parts from, for once, instead of robbing mechanics and cars that we pass. I should fix up my leg and arm with some of their parts again before we head out. And raid the cowboy’s liquor stash again. He’s got the good whiskey, not like that piss you drink.”

“I drink Jameson. You told me it was your favorite. You named yourself after it.”

“Did I? Is that why my name’s Jamison? Where’d I get the I from?”

“Fuck if I know.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence after a moment. Jamie’s hands wandered to his pockets and he pulled out a bit of scrap wire he kept in there, just for something to occupy his time with. No doubt they’d be receiving a call from the Overwatch agents any minute, asking if they knew anything about Symmetra’s broken door. The tone of voice would make it implicitly clear that it was not actually a question and that pissy old soldier wanted to talk to them about their behavior.

But he wasn’t too worried about that right now. They had an exit plan- without any disagreement from Hog, moving things out in the truck seemed to be a go.   
“Stopping at the med bay, too.”

All of the hair on Junkrat’s arms immediately stood on end at the mere mention of the place.

“What for?”

“Going to steal some of the radiation treatment pills the doc’s got.”


End file.
